hair-b-gone

My beard is like a horror movie

I shaved this morning the same way I always do–I used the electric razor on my face and neck, then used a trimmer for my Van Dyke. It’s properly known as a circle beard but no one seems to know what a circle beard is.

Anyway, the beard itself is more a vestige at this point, as I don’t use a guard on the trimmer, insuring the facial hair is there but in a minimalist sort of way.

Tonight I noticed the fuzz on my chin and upper lip was more pronounced than one would expect after a little over 14 hours of growth. I clearly remember trimming it this morning and I’m pretty sure I haven’t been struck by lightning since then and acquired the power of super fast hair growth as a result (though a little more on the top would be nice).

Instead I’m left to ponder how my facial hair has become the folical version of Michael Meyers, coming back stronger and more resilient no matter how often I whack it down.

I’m going to take pictures of this to prove it’s not just me being weird. Well, weirder.

My shaved head

I shaved my head tonight. This is not new, I shave it every two to three weeks.

I love the way my head feels right after I’ve shaved it. It’s weird, but I do. It’s all stubbly and sexy.

It also reminds me:

  • I don’t need to spend $100 a year on shampoo*
  • I don’t need to comb my hair
  • I don’t need to dry my hair
  • I don’t need to style my hair
  • I am at no risk of getting my hair caught in heavy machinery
  • I don’t worry about going bald
  • I never have a bad hair day

It’s win-win-win-win-win-win-win.

 

* this may be an exaggeration, I haven’t bought shampoo in awhile to really check

Michael Stipe’s Hair: A Tragedy in Three Acts

Act I: Long, golden locks. A rock god, even if they airbrushed my face on album photos.

Act II: I’m not losing my hair, I just like hats. No, I love hats. You touch this hat, you die.

Act III: Hair is full of germs and a symbol of the patriarchy. Yeah, that’s it. I have shaved my head in protest. Coincidentally I no longer love hats.

Bonus Act: I grew a big, bushy crazy old man beard because why not?

21 Days of Shaved Head

Here is another mug shot with my patented ‘where is that left eye looking off to, anyway?’ look, this time exactly three weeks after I shaved my head. I had no idea I had that patch of white hair on the right side of my head. It looks like some weird kind of affectation. The hair is itchier now than when it was newly-shaved, though it’s still not generally itchy.

I am planning on shaving it close again after letting it grow out a little more to see how my New Hair evolves.

7 Days of Shaved Head

No, it’s not the title of a Pearl Jam B-side (does the concept of a B-side even exist anymore?), it’s been seven days since I shaved my head and the verdict is in: I like it! Never having hat hair alone has made it worthwhile. I tried using shampoo but it really didn’t do much. Soap seems to work better now. Drying my hair takes two seconds with a towel — if I’m slow. It’s all around what I’d called darned convenient.

I tried a few more times to get a decent pic but mostly failed. Here’s one, anyway. Chances are I will update this at some point when I eventually manage a better shot. Nonetheless, the non-hair is clear.

This was taken on December 2nd, the day I I turned my hair into a tribble. My chin looks a bit scrunched up because I was holding the camera out in front of me.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

I shaved my head today.

Why? Good question.

Partly I wanted a change, partly it was tacit acknowledgment that my hair was thinning and getting thinner, as if suffering under some kind of gypsy curse (or just bad genes). And partly it was because my hair has always been fussy and kind of stupid and not having it makes it much easier to deal with.

As a bonus, I got a tribble out of the deal:

Fortunately I only have one head to shave so there is no risk of a second tribble and the subsequent infinite tribble breeding that would follow the two meeting up.

I will have a picture of my new shorn look soon™.

A hair-razing adventure

WARNING! This post contains graphic descriptions of hair removal.

If you like hair READ NO FURTHER.

Several days ago I needed to apply topical cream to my abdomen to address a certain level of itchiness that was making me crazy. I am, as they say, hirsute when it comes to the chest and abdomen so I figured to insure proper application of said cream, I would shave the hair off first, leaving a sexy and smooth surface to work with.

I used my beard trimmer to whittle down the hair to where a twin blade disposable razor could handle the rest. I applied plenty of Foamy and carefully went to work (you don’t have to avoid nipples when shaving your face. At least I hope not). It took awhile and after I was done I observed bleeding in several spots from where I had nicked several moles. Gross. I cleaned up, dried off and applied the cream.

It is two days later and the itching has begun. I am aware of the rich irony in shaving to address itchiness, only to have more itchiness happen as a direct result. There is no question in my mind that I will let the hair grow back. It vividly brings to mind that the people who spend the time preening and plucking at their bodies to make them look ‘better’ could just accept themselves as is and spend that time doing something else that would be entertaining, rewarding or both. Or even just reading the latest trashy novel.

Hair is annoying. It grows the most where you least want it and the least where you most want it. Which reminds me, it’s time to shave my face.

Stupid hair.

New Year: 1, Beard: 0

Shortly after midnight and possibly giddy with excitement at the prospect that the 2010 Winter Olympics are now THIS YEAR I grabbed the beard trimmer and shaved off the beard again.

I like the look I had with about one week’s growth — more of a suggestion of a beard but with the face still fully outlined. Now I just need to figure out how to set the guard on the trimmer to provide this optimal length.

Exciting and heady stuff, to be certain!

Mustache massacre

Tonight at 10 p.m. I got the sudden urge to shave my face. Let me explain.

When I was 29 I grew a beard while on Christmas break at college. It was less a beard and more “I’m too lazy to shave for two weeks” but when someone asked me if I was growing a beard it suddenly seemed like a good idea, so I said yes. I have had the beard since.

This means I was not clean-shaven throughout my 30s and into my early 40s. I was a content beardyman, at least as far as the beard part went.

Finally, I made the first major change to my facial hair in April of this year when I lopped off the full beard and went for a more petite circle beard. I believe this was the right call at the time because the sides of my beard had pretty much gone completely white and I am not ready to become everyone’s stand-in for Santa just yet.

Since then I’ve mulled going further but held off because I like the circle beard. It makes me look vaguely hip, especially if I wear a beret (I don’t own a beret).

But tonight I got this overwhelming urge to see my upper lip for the first time in 16 years, so I broke out the beard trimmer and razor. I am now clean-shaven once again except for a neatly-trimmed goatee that I may or may not shave off tomorrow.

I kind of like the new-old look. I’ll wait a week before deciding whether to stay smooth ‘n sexy or go back to a more hirsute appearance.

Shorn:

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