Theater of the Uncomfortable is what Crispin Glover calls his brand of weird. It’s what I call my brand of funny.
I chopped – well not I, but my wonderful hairdresser Heidi—6 inches from my hair yesterday. It took about 8 years off my haggard face. The hair she cut off was the most bizarre texture. It reminded me of doll hair from the 70’s only more desiccated and unnaturally shiny, like it spent the summer eating green popsicles and swimming in the neighborhood pool. I had held on to that hair way past its personal September, if you know what I mean.
Letting go of 6 inches of hair is not easy. It took about 2 years to convince Heidi that it was time. In that time period, I probably stood in the mirror with the electric shears 30 times poised to do a GI Jane. The only thing that kept stopping me was the memory of that sad mug shot of Britany Spears with an off-centered and inverted Mohawk. Heidi assured me that I hadn’t been ready until yesterday. That should tell you what a crappy day the day BEFORE yesterday was. It aged me a decade. So I’m still 2 years behind.
Cutting unnecessary and harmful things from my life has always been easy for me initially. But then after I execute the task, I have a certain sadness that settles in to replace whatever I lost. Not really so much about my hair or whatever, but about the loss of that time period in my life.
I feel that same way when I give away the clothes the boys have outgrown. It’s necessary and good to create space for something new. But there is always an associated sense of loss. I think this comes from the fact that it JUST recently dawned on me that I probably wasn’t going to be living forever. Not that there is anything to suggest that it's imminent. Just that it hadn't really crossed my mind. That memo must have gotten stuck in the spam filter.
Anyway, I cut my hair because it looks like they might have to remove one of my ovaries which will surely at least change the texture of my hair. I’m sure a lot of guys just clicked off this link because that’s an area of the body that is generally considered off limits in conversation. Of course boobs are fair game. Asses, totally cool. But internal structure of indeterminate size, strength and function would just make the dudes NERVOUS. Because let’s face it, girls, we have heuvos, too. They’re just on the inside.
You think the dudes are nervous. Hell, I’M nervous. There is a chance that it could throw me into the big M about 5 years early. I’m not talking about the carwash on Stadium, either. My doctor would like to avoid this because it causes bone loss. I would like to avoid it because it would most likely cause the loss of what’s left of my cool, which, let’s face it, in a life or death situation, is SO important. But if something is not functioning properly in your body, they say it’s good to remove it. Patti can attest to this. Anybody who has had appendicitis can, too.
The problem I’m having with the whole thing is this: What is this trying to tell me? This is a pretty important and high functioning organ. It’s the seat of creation. It helps to nurture life. What is the lesson I’m missing?
Personally, my hunch is something like maybe I wish I would have had more kids. Even though I seem to stink at mothering the ones I do have, I always had the dream of a big family like the one I grew up in. Now I realize that my perfectionism and some bad timing kept me from going for it within the allotted time frame. Buzzer Sounded. Time up. Sorry. Thank you for playing. Moving on to the next contestant. And since you won’t be needing that ovary any longer, can you please surrender it at the counter on your way out of the building? Like a pair of bowling shoes.
But I am happy and content to have the beauties I do have. It's all bittersweet.
Anyway, cutting unnecessary and harmful things out of my life is today’s theme. I guess it’s also a theme of transition and change. And being funny by accident. You know, I’d rather be funny by accident than not funny at all.
Since I’m such a cowgirl wannabe, maybe I should call this episode:
“Adios Huevos Rancheros.”