Random Thought

It's kind of nice to be near-sighted. Without glasses on, and before putting contacts in, I can look at myself in the mirror and see skin blurred to a perfect unified tone. :)

Animal Kinship

Every now and then we puppy-sit this English bulldog. She's less than a year old, but already she is almost 40 pounds of wrinkles, snorts, and flatulence. I love her.

Now, there's nothing terribly aesthetically pleasing about a bulldog. That stout body, loose skin, bulbous eyes, droopy jowels and the fearsome underbite. There is no dog in all of God's creation that was meant to look like that. They were fashioned entirely by humans and bred to be fighters, especially for the sport of bull baiting. It's quite tragic that this results in quite a lot of health problems and a relatively short lifespan overall.

But a lot of people find bulldogs' unique appearance enormously endearing. I'm one of them. And that's before I even realized what sweet personalities they have. This little girl who comes to hang out with me is indiscriminately friendly to a fault. It's a wonderful thing to have the companionship of a living, breathing thing that does not, and cannot, judge you for how you look.

My favorite thing about her is that she'll come up to me, snuffling and with her bottom teeth poking out, to nuzzle my face. And she's got the most prickly whiskers, giving the scratchiest kisses. But that's okay, 'cause there are days when I'm just as scratchy. We're weird together.

Got Hirsutism?

One day at work, I was assisting a cheery young woman. To paint a picture: she was mousy of coloring, freckled complexion, hair in no particular style, and glowingly positive which, when you work with people, is a rare jewel. She was the sort of person you'd have a rapport with instantly, no matter who you were and what your own personality was like. It was a pleasure to serve her. As we were talking through the transaction and making eye contact, I noticed that her complexion seemed darker around her jaw and chin--the kind of thing you'd probably only really see if that area of the face was of personal significance to you. And then, of course, it was all I could see. There was no point in which I could get close enough to really tell, but I became more and more convinced that it was beard shadow.

But what is the protocol for asking? There just isn't one. I was burning to ask, and she seemed like she would have been frank with me. But I had to think about how I would feel if it were me being asked.

If it were one of those days (as it has been lately) where I had fought with my face all morning to hide my secret and struggle to even leave the house and go about my day, someone asking me, "Hey, are you hirsute?" would probably be devastating. Was it that obvious? Does everybody notice but no one has the guts to ask? I'd probably slink home and crawl under my covers for the rest of the day, feeling sorry for myself.

However, if it was a good day, and I felt confident... I don't know, maybe I'd be relieved. Maybe I'd sigh like a weight had been lifted off me and say, "Yes! Oh thank goodness, yes!" I'd be excited to meet someone who was aware of the issue. And I bet this is more the case for me than it used to be. I get closer all the time to telling people I wouldn't necessarily trust implicitly. As I begin to see that there is no "fix" for the symptoms, it's becoming clear that my beard is just a part of me, like my near sightedness or that freckle on my butt. It makes me no less a woman, it just makes me me. If only I could feel like that all the time...

I'm Still Here

Again, I'm so sorry for the silence! Last week I had such a good blog post in my head, but life was so ridiculously busy that I never got a chance to write it down in all it's fresh glory. I didn't even have time to take a day off from shaving, and my skin got really bad. I actually called in sick to work, which I have not done in some time, just because I was too ashamed to show my face in public. I got... rather down.

And then this week, I tried to rally, but a migraine cut my legs out from under me. I'm trying to limit my computer time because I still feel quite ill. But I wanted to leave you all something to let you know I'm still here. And here's a cute, positive song for you: