Wednesday, December 9, 2009


another piece from the writing group.

Everyone asked if I would keep my hair.
I wondered if they would have to shave my head to open it.
What happened surprised us all. They(doctors) did not have to shave my head, and I did not lose my hair to chemotherapy.

I had always been a hairy girl. My mother called me "Cousin It". If you don't know what cousin it is, watch old episodes of the Adams Family. He's the 3-foot monster that's nothing but hair.

Anyway, as a kid I had thick blond hair. Mom used to spend hours brushing it after my bath, and I would yell at her for pulling too hard to get out the never-ending tangles. Finally she got tired of this, and demanded I get my hair cut.

"But mom, " I cried. "It will make me look like a boy!"

"My hair is short. Does that make me a boy?" mom asked.

Good question. I caved and agreed to getting a "Dutch Boy" haircut, which today would be called a "bob".

I eventually grew my hair out again, and got a perm. My sister said I looked like a Chia Pet, and I did.

When it was time to look for my first job, my team of advisers suggested I get a "pixie" or some other short and professional haircut. I got the job, but I didn't want to discuss a serious topic with my hairdresser, or she'd just keep cutting.

I like to get my hair highlighted because is gives shine and color to it. But after brain surgery, I had to wait, I think six weeks, before getting it cut, let alone highlighted. And there is some debate about whether coloring hair contributes to brain tumors. When my doctor said it was okay to do anything I wanted to my hair, I did.

Now hair isn't about cancer. It's about money. Times are tight, so I can't justify spending $62 for a haircut. I recently to a place where I got a $30 cut. I think I'll grow it out for as long as I can stand it. I don't like my hair in my face, and I don't want to look like Cousin It.

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