The better I feel this week, the more my hair falls out. Is there a correlation? I have been hiding my bald patches with large head bands for some time now, but Tom tells me it is time to pull out the wigs. I would, but they are pink and red. I am not opposed to interesting colored hair, but pink and red don't always match my costuming vision... some days a desired mood is not made with pink or red.
I set out yesterday to find a wig. I found an open shop in Oakland with a nice owner who let me try on every wig. (Apparently some stores are not so kind and limit your time and wig trials). I was the only customer for the hour I was there. She talked on the phone in an Asian language that I did not recognize.
I tried on wigs that I thought would be flirty and fun, but I looked old and haggered. I tried on swishy short ones that made me look a little like Sammy Hagar... not even I could recognize myself and I know who I am all of the time (don't I?). Well, I know I'm not Sammy Hagar anyway.
I decided on the only wig that really matched my skin tone. It is a ridiculous wig, really. The hair is too long and too straight and too styled and hangs too perfectly. I can count the times on one hand that I have blown my own hair dry, so all of my friends would know it's not real hair... but I guess they are also the ones that know I have no hair and don't really care (in a good way), so what the heck... who cares.
I told the woman I would take it. It was cheap. I can get another when I have a better source, but I think I'll need to start wearing it by tomorrow at the rate I'm feeling better. I took the wig off to have her ring it up and saw my head above all of the manikin heads on the counter. I was bald. The sweat from trying on all of the wigs had stuck what white wisps of hair I had left to my white head. Weird. I'm getting to know a whole new me. I don't know how I feel about that. or her.
My new wig makes me look like a wanna-be hippie chick form 1969. I haven't spent the night in Golden Gate park, I've slept at home and done my hair and dyed it. I tried putting it in 2 braids, and I laughed. Adeline liked it. "Two braids like me, Mommy."
Cole said, "Hey! You got new hair." "Yes. Do you like it?" I've talked to them about my hair falling out and having to wear wigs, but here's the reality. "I want one!"
I came back into the hallway and Adeline had on my pink wig. "I'm like you Mommy!"
George bribed me at piano practice.
"I will play Lightly Row after you take off your wig." And I did.
I love your little guys. You sound like you are enduring the latest development with good humor. You are in my thoughts every day.
Posted by: Lilo | March 24, 2010 at 05:33 PM
Sammy Hagard is the creepiest musician of the eighties he did a bunch of strange choirs in his band during this epoch
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