No, no, NO!
This isn’t another Mad Cow post. I haven’t lost any blenders or shoes or cats or brains.
And, no, it’s not another NUDIE post. I’m not “losing” my clothes in a desperate attempt to snag a few more readers.
Seriously. I lost two things recently. Big things. Important things. Things I feel sort of lost without. Heh.
First, I lost 7 inches of hair. That’s, like, a pound of hair. I wanted a whole foot cut off—just so I could say “I got a foot of hair cut off,” but even with my stupidly long hair, that would’ve been pretty drastic. As it is, my hair is a LOT shorter.
It looks and feels awesome. I love it. Why did I wait over a year to get it cut? Oh, yeah. I’m lazy. Don’t let me wait a year again, peeps. This is sooo much easier.
Even tho that long-ass hair didn’t really look all that great, I miss it. Because? I was the “girl with the long hair.” That was my whole public identity (or so I thought). “Your hair is so LONG!” people would exclaim. And they were RIGHT! Someone actually told me I looked like a mermaid. A freaking mermaid! Now I look like a regular person, which is nice but also not that nice. My long hair made me feel special, even as I was pulling fistfuls of it from my drain, my carpet, my cereal bowl.
Still, I don’t regret it at all. It’ll grow back. Plus who cares. It’s only stupid hair.
The second thing I lost is not as visible as a foot of hair (we’re just gonna say “a foot of hair,” OK?). But you can tell, if you know what to look for. It’s in the way I walk, get out of the car, rise after sitting for a while, and, yes, it’s in the way I Zumba.
I lost my pain.
About 3 weeks ago, I got a cortisone shot for chronic back pain. I’ve had these shots before, but this one . . . man, what did he put IN there? Liquid crack? Because the pain, THE PAIN IS GONE! From EVERYWHERE.
I know the shot is temporary. I know cortisone turns your bones to dust, which presumably is bad for you.
I know, I know, I know.
I don’t care. They can put freaking Drano directly into my spinal column if this is the result.
It won’t last, but that’s OK, because my brain will remember and know that it was possible to feel like this.
To feel all . . . bendy! To just get up and move, without planning ahead. To finish a workout and feel the good kind of achey instead of the Vicodin kind of achey. To sit in an uncomfortable restaurant chair for more than 20 minutes and wonder, “what’s missing?”
I bet this is how mermaids feel.
Oh, for god’s sake, quit your pouting. The funny will be back, in the form of . . . SARDINES!