And She Said "I Don't Get Modern Art"

I don't get modern art either, take my hair for example, it's a piece of modern art and I just don't get it. There's actually not much to get anymore. You know if I wanted to look like a 9 year old boy I'd have gone to a barber, at least then I'd look cute.

My hairdresser quipped that phrase to me "I 'don't get modern art". To be accurate she's not really my hairdresser nor will she ever be again. For you see, I once had hair and it was not until it was under the chopping block that I realised just how much I liked it. What I did not like was the chatty hairdresser, sure she was nice but she seemed to forget that she was cutting my hair. Rather she began to lop it off in chunks while spitting out pleasantries. In hindsight I'd have asked her to keep her pleasantries and give me back my hair. It's too late now though. It always is.

I'd liken the hairdresser situation to an outburst of fire in the Sims. You sit there saying OMG OMG OMG STOP IT!!!! But you don't actually do anything until it's too late, and then the grim reaper comes along...or even worse the judgment of others!

Maybe I am being a bit brash though. It doesn't look THAT bad, I just had a rough childhood, I'm not well equipped to deal with change. I can't deal with normal situations in a calm normal manner. I'm just having a very bad case of post haircut stress. This stress causes all sorts of traumatic thoughts. Thoughts ranging from 'great now I need a hat to cover my awful haircut' to much more sinister thoughts... Ones that see me jealously eyeing off every person in sight. Eyeing off their hair to be more precise. 'Oh look at that 90 year old man, look at all the hair on his head!' Or 'hey look at that newborn baby, wow I guess it started growing hair in the womb.'

As if these thoughts aren't bad enough I begin to find myself in direct competition with these people. People with more hair than me, people who should have no hair! As I was crossing the road to get home I spotted an elderly man crossing on the other side. At the sight of the green light I dashed across the road, wind in my scalp, passing the old man by a mile. I felt liberated. 'Ha I beat you old man!' I silently said in my head. Looking back that may have been a little harsh.

Now I know people say oh it's okay it's only hair after all it will grow back. These people do not understand. It's more than hair to me, it's my livelihood. If you take away my hair then what do I have left, nothing! Without hair I'm just like the rest of them, boring and uncool. But a good full head of hair can do wonders for the heart and soul. Until my hair grows back however, I find myself in a sad, desperately fragile state. One wrong move and I could shatter at any given moment. You'll find me sitting in the corner clutching at the loose strands of the hair I used to have. Now I truly understand the saying 'hair today gone tomorrow' or was that here...