Happy election year.
Happy birthday. To me. I’ll be 29 years old in 10 days. I ain’t worried. I could easily pass for 27. I could even pass for 25, maybe, if I grew my hair out, but I’m not going to do that. Too many interesting strangers love my cropped ‘do. In fact, just this evening I was stopped by a homeless lady as I was leaving Trader Joe’s. She told me she loved my hair and that she used to have a haircut just like mine when she was younger.
“My husband used to tell me, ‘You look BUTCH!'”
“I would just turn around and say, ‘Well you’re a PUSSY!'”
I am simply not willing to sacrifice these wonderful interactions for the sake of shaving a few years off my appearance.