09-26-09 – The Dirty Girls Social Club
I’m not bothered by it, I’ve had short hair for a few years now. I used to rock that long, layered look with a few lowlights and then my mom and I decided to chop it all off for Locks of Love. This was before she got cancer, kind of ironic I guess. Or is that Allanis Morisette ironic? Not-ironic-just-shitty-kind-of-ironic? Anyway, we both found out at that point that we liked having short hair, so we just kept it. When Mom was diagnosed I shaved my head in solidarity. It’s grown in again but today we’ll chop it off again.
I used to joke that maybe the wig my mom got was made out of her own hair, or mine. She never wore it much, she looked good with a Q-ball and I think owning it, embracing it gave her strength.
Janette is worried that she’ll look like a boy. I insist that she won’t, and also that at this point it really doesn’t matter. I’m worried that we’ll get fleas or worse, lice. Without a functioning shower it’s impossible to stay even moderately clean. I think this is the first step. Holly takes it like a champ and really, she could look worse. Janette’s long, strong-chinned face isn’t exactly flattered by short hair, and she looks like someone, something, I can’t point my finger on it – but she certainly doesn’t look like a boy.
I can almost feel us bonding, like spending a day at the most backwater, rundown salon imaginable. There’s no exfoliating mask or sea-salt scrub, but we look and feel different – better.
Peter Pan. That’s who Janette reminds me of, that chick who played Peter Pan on stage. I’d tell Janette but I don’t think she’d take it as a compliment. I wish she was Peter Pan, I wish she could fly up and out of here and find us all some help.