An Aborted Experiment
So I made another pass at growing out facial hair and today I gave up. Facial hair, it turns out, makes me hate myself even more than I do usually. I feel unclean and disgusting. I feel like I’m not me anymore. There are some people I can’t picture without facial hair and there are some people, like me, who I can’t picture with it. I don’t know why every time I have a spare four days to be a hermit I try this out but I keep doing it. You’d think I would learn.
After almost not going out with JonMartin because of it, and after a few days worth of being generally grumpy I should’ve figured that the spotty beard I was growing might have something to do with it. In high school and college I often attributed sudden bursts of knowledge and happiness to getting my hair cut finally. I used to think that all the negative energy, all the grit and grime of life would get stuck in my longer hair and if I cut it I would feel relieved. In recent times I’ve looked back on those assumptions thinking I was full of shit but now I’m not so sure. Every time I shave or get my hair cut I do actually feel a bit better.
So I shaved this afternoon and it really hurt. I’m not sure why, but when I started in with the electric razor it felt only slightly better than when I had to pluck an all-too-long hair from my nose the other day with a pair of tweezers. I was yelping while Stephanie sat in the other room watching MTV’s Tough Enough marathon (which I’d accidentally gotten her into). It was just another reason I should never let myself grow the hair out. Trying to get rid of it is always too damn painful.
And speaking of painful, I got myself into a wicked bad mood on the way to Jon’s last night thinking about a series of entries for the site. I was considering writing a little five parter on my most embarrassing moments but when I started to go through the moments I might pick I started kicking myself. I dwell on my embarrassing moments way too much and I was thinking that by getting them out there I might exorcize some demons. But when just thinking about them causes me to cringe I somehow think that writing about them for a week would probably be much much worse.
I just watched a really kinda awful movie, Exotica, on Starz! Cinema, one of the many movie channels we pay way too much for on a monthly basis. It was all over the place and perhaps that’s why I am all over the place in this entry. Their storytelling style is rubbing off on me.
Or perhaps its because I was planning on writing a whole entry on me not shaving and then I realized that I just did that a couple of weeks ago.