It Makes Me Look More Like My Brother

The thing with the hair. I tried the wig for a couple of days, and I think it looked okay, but it was more like a hair hat that kept shifting around. Mind you, my strands of hair were still stuffed underneath, so it will feel different as a cue ball, but it is still a lot of hair to manage. Basically, I waited until I couldn’t stand my scraggly hair underneath a bandana, so I called up Jenny and asked her to do the deed. She was ready for me. It was just what I needed: no big emotional freakout on either of our parts, just a girlfriend cutting my hair. She buzzed me down to the last guard—I figured I could go whole razor when the stubbles start to look patchy like the dog in Steel Magnolias.

Being buzzed is so freakin’ comfortable! Although I do occasionally brush my imaginary bangs to the side of my face or start to wrap my towel on my head like a turban to dry my hair, I feel totally normal without hair. But if I want to look normal in public, I might wear my wig. It’s nice just knowing I can choose to have hair and blend in if I want to—although I do need to go get the bangs trimmed.