Choparoo part II

Well, I finally did it. After 3 years of growing my hair back to the luxurious long black mane of yesterday, I went and chopped it all off! I just walking into Coupe Bizarre and said, "give me a Mia Farrow haircut" and the rest is history. It's odd how we become so emotionally attached to hair. Maybe it's a product of our socialization or media images of beauty. Who knows. I wanted to challenge any fears I had about chopping it all off... Once it's done, you realize it isn't so bad; actually it's quite liberating and amazing. I think many of our fears in general work the same way. The anxiety is in the anticipation and the uncertainty. I'm always seeking ways to push myself to the limits. While hair is not necessarily a measure of my willpower, it certainly is an interesting phenomenon that some women fear losing that certain image they've become accustomed to and feel so safe with. I feel like Linus ditching his security blanket. It was Linus right? Anyway, my once adored tresses are now sitting in a bag, bound in a ponytail. I'm saving it for the cancer programs or something to that effect. It's so weird seeing something that was once so much a part of me looking like some limp appendage severed and hastily dumped into a bag. Kinda gross. Me on the other hand, I couldn't feel more new.