Category: Hairs

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I Can’t Decide What To Wear

Yes, I did get my head hairs shaved this morning. It was time for a trim. We’re going out for some artsy entertainment tonight, and I haven’t dressed up in soooo long that I’ve almost forgotten exactly how to select fancy evening attire. I’m debating betwixt a slew o’ jackets. I’m looking through capes and earrings and shoes. I doubt I will wear this ocean-y lighthouse Tie o’ the Day this evening, although I’m enjoying wearing it around the house. I’m thinking I might even go “black tie” for the event, which—for me—usually means a bow tie with at least a subtle hint of black and/or white somewhere on it. It doesn’t actually have to be clearly black or white. I’m fastidious about what I wear, but not too literal about the rules o’ anybody else’s froufrou, high-society fashion. 🎩

FYI I purposely didn’t tell y’all where we’re going tonight, but I’ll definitely let y’all know in a post tomorrow. Sometimes I like to keep you guessing. Practice your patience, please. [That FYI was purely for my sister, BT, who will read this post two minutes after I post it, and then immediately text me to ask where we’re going for the evening. Hold your horses, BT. You can be patient, too. 😘]

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My Huntsman Adventure: Day 1

In the waiting area, before getting garbed up for surgery.
My surgical attire.
My beehive hairdo.

The day began with my typical antics in the surgery waiting area of Huntsman Cancer Hospital. Suzanne wore the spiderweb face mask, while I donned the toughest University of Utah red Face Mask o’ the Day I could find. Bow Tie o’ the Bigly Surgery Day was one of my wood, magnetically attached t-shirt bow ties—with Day o’ the Dead skulls, in this case. I felt ready for what was ahead. After I got changed into my surgery duds, I had fun sculpting designs with my “hair net.” Here, you see my versions of a beret and a beehive hairdo. Alas! The fun would not last long that day.

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Ready

I have crossed all the to-do’s and honey-do’s off my pre-surgery list. The bookshelves are dusted and polished. I did the laundry, so I have clean underwear. Skitter’s sleep-crate water bottle is full to the brim. I made a meal list for Suzanne, so she won’t have to do any thinking about what to eat for dinner while I’m on hosp-cation (hospital + “vacation”) at Huntsman. This afternoon, I finally have time to sit on my butt for a wee bit. I’m wearing an argyle Tie o’ the Day and combing my teensy head hairs with my teensy comb. I’m feeling relaxed, for now. Tomorrow morning’s gutting will be here way too soon, and not nearly soon enough.

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Mom’s Birthday Eve

I have no clue why I felt like wearing my St. Louis wood Bow Tie o’ the Day, but I don’t have time to figure it out right now. Tomorrow is Mom’s 91st birthday, and Miss Tiffany squeezed me into her salon schedule so I could get a fresh hairscut. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Mom, who expects such things of me and my hairs.

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My New Vinyl Records Face Mask O’ The Day

Polka dot Bow Tie o’ the Day and I did a bunch of Monday morning erranding around the Wasatch Front. It was only after I got back home that I realized I had completely forgotten to comb my hair before I left the house to conduct my business this morning. Oh, dear! I hope no one noticed. I’m mortified! 😏

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It’s Still Ron’s Birthday

TIE O’ THE DAY managed to dig up this ancient snapshot of today’s birthday boy, my bigly brother, Ron. Here, he is holding baby-me. I think carrying pudgy me around was part of Ron’s first weightlifting routine—getting him into shape for his storied football, baseball, and basketball mastery. He made a school career of being a savvy and skillful athlete. He was a guard on the only Delta High School boys’ basketball team to ever win a State Championship, in 1972. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still a champ. But now he’s a really old champ.

BTW Look! I have more hair on my noggin in this picture than I have on my head right now. (See yesterday’s post photo for comparison, if you haven’t seen my current extra-baldy look already.)

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A Bigly Hairscut

Before my hairscut.
After my hairscut.

I cannot be left to my own whims. Suzanne is going to be perturbed at me—or at least shocked. The handful of times in my life when I have felt the urge to get my head shaved, I have always gone with the #2 comb guide on the clipper. Today, while driving to my hairs appointment, Bow Tie o’ the Day whispered into my hearing aids, “Do something different. Try the #1 comb.” I thought to myself, “That’s something I’ve never done. It sounds like a dandy plan.” Like I always say, it really is okay to do some things just because you have never done them before. And so, when I greeted Miss Tiffany (isn’t she a cutie!?) at her new workspace, I told her to throw the #1 comb on the clippers. You can see that’s exactly what she did. I am fully aware it is not my best look, but I’m already glad I did it. It feels a lightyear different than the #2 comb shave. My head hairs now feel so not-there, and I can’t begin to accurately explain how interesting it feels to rub my own head. My hair feels like semi-soft sandpaper! My head is Velcro! Also, when I swam in the pool with this hairdo, I felt like I swam with all the speed and grace of a streamlined torpedo. I might, however, need to invest in a wig before Suzanne gets home from work and discovers what I have done. I am—as always—her cross to bear. It is true: I can’t take me anywhere.

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It Is Hairs-mageddon!

I know it’s time for a hairscut when my Spock ear gets all covered up, but today it feels like the end of my head hairs’ world. You see, I am in dire need of my noggin hairs being hacked off and otherwise managed, and I just found out Miss Tiffany—the masterful cutter o’ my head hairs—no longer works at Great Clips. She is, in fact, nowhere to be found. Now I know how Mom felt when Vonnie retired! Where, oh, where did my Miss Tiffany go? She appreciates my style, and she knows how to wrangle my straight, limp hairs, like no other of these “up north” shear-wielders can. She is a prize I lucked into finding, and now it seems I’ve lost her. Woe is me! And woe-er are my head hairs! The end is near! I hate when that happens.

And then suddenly, just as mustache Bow Tie o’ the Day and I began to surrender to the end of life as we know it and plan a full-out pity party for me and my head hairs, Suzanne texted me from work and said, “Your Miss Tiffany just called me. She wants us to know she’s cuttin’ hairs at a new place now. Here’s the phone number.” Yay! All is right with the world! No pity party needed! No hirsute end of times! No Hairs-pocalypse!

I’m crossing my pancreas that Miss Tiffany is working tomorrow.💇✂️🔪💈

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You Can’t Look Away

In this selfie from August 2020, seahorses Bow Tie o’ the Day is pleased to present the impenetrable unibrow I would be sporting if I went a week without tweezing my eyebrows. All hail the tweezers!

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Look At My Hairsy Forehead

It was hairscuttin’ time again. I knew the head hairs I got shaved off last month were due for a tune-up shaving, but I wasn’t in any real rush to get a touch-up at first. And then an odd thing started happening—or, I should say, an odd thing started not happening. You see, after I got that bigly shave, every time Suzanne walked past me, she was automatically compelled to rub my bald head. I liked it. But this past week, I noticed she easily walked right by my head billions of times a day, without paying any attention to my barely-there head hairs whatsoever. Well, my head fur is not going to stand for being ignored. I can take a hint: It was time for a #2 razor shave. Miss Tiffany at Great Clips was happy to oblige. And Miss Tiffany was just as happy to see me show up in my beautifully designed Tie o’ the Day, with its open straight razors and shaving brushes.