Will you still love me when I’m bald? ‘Cause that’s apparently where I’m heading. Since last year’s involuntary foray into vampirism (a.k.a. Bloodfest 2011!), I’ve been consistently losing my hair. And not in fun places like the waaay back, or the backey-back, if you will, but right in the front. My newest scary bald patch is at my left temple. Every time I try to somehow brush my hair around to straighten it out or make it presentable (and not so obviously gone) all I hear is Jo March’s annoying “She’s completely bald in front!” in my head. It’s frustrating, and no one is willing to do anything about it, all the doctors want to do is wait to see if alleviating the aenemia would help. But they are straightening that out, and the hair loss is not getting any better; if anything it’s getting worse. This is leading me to believe that NOTHING can be done about it, and they are just dodging the issue.
Now is the part where my family points out how excellent I look in hats. Which I won’t deny, I look damn good in hats. But that’s not the point. I don’t want to be in hats because I’m bald, but because I’m frikkin awesome, and what’s more – I don’t want to be that bald fat girl. It sounds vain, but it’s not. It’s like a cruel last shot, the confirmation I’m going to be some lone loser unemployable, unlovable, living in some basement like fat Gollum for the rest of my life. So on my own I’m not too sure what I can do. All research seems to indicate that I’m totally fucked and keeps steering me towards snake oil remedies, chemical/pharmaceutical treatments that I can’t afford, and worse – hair pieces that I definitely can’t afford. On top of cost, when it comes to hair pieces (extensions and the like) and wigs, I am completely grossed out. I’m sorry, but I am really not comfortable with wearing someone else’s hair on my head and I don’t get why everyone else is okay with it.
This hair thing really bothers me. It bothers me that this is a society where your worth is so tied in to your appearance that billions of dollars are wasted a year on hair treatments while millions of people can’t afford food to eat. It bothers me that I care. It bothers me that I have to fight with my body at every turn over every little thing. It bothers me that this will keep me from getting further in life and getting away from this house and this ridiculous loneliness.
So if anyone has any suggestions as to how I can keep what’s left of my hair in my head and grow back what I’ve lost, they are SO very welcome.
In other news, I am trying to write up a quick rundown of the more noteworthy books I’ve read this year. As you may or may not know I’ve read 105 books thus far this year. I will post some of the better ones I’ve read here soon, it’s just I’m trying to write reviews and not sound like a pretentious asshole. Also, the laptop has been repaired, and I’ve written a whole ‘nother chapter of my book. So woo to me, I guess.
In a sad attempt to end with related witticism and levity, I’d like to end this post with a picture of a sexy kitten in a wig.
But I’m going to get permission to use the image before doing so.
So imagine it if you will: orange shorthair tabby, wavy pink wig. Now imagine: Orange shorthair tabby, straight black shoulderlength number with cropped fringe.