I love Dr. B and all but...

I AM SO HAPPY THAT I DON'T HAVE TO SEE HIM (medically, at least) FOR TWO MONTHS!!!!!

How freakin' awesome is that? Once I took the wig off, and showed him how much progress my hair growth has been making - he even said that he was super happy with the Dritho-scalp and the results.

The attending today was kind of a dick. I don't know - it seemed like he would ask me a question and then look more at Dr. B than at me...which kind of irked me a little bit but hey, those attendings can't all be winners!!!

It doesn't matter anyway - the "dick" agreed with Dr. B and I that my hair was definitely growing back and that I should continue on the Dritho-scalp.

Dr. B asked me how long I had been leaving it on for (since the last time they had seen me they told me to try to leave it on for up to two hours). I kind of confessed that I had done some experimenting on my own and had pretty much been leaving it on my head for 4+ hours and just sleeping with a hair cap on my head with the medicine all on my scalp. I figured that it wasn't irritating my scalp to the point of no return, and why not leave it on for the maximum amount to see if it works any faster? I guess it did!! (hehe)

So the end result is: keep doing what I'm doing and they will see me back in two months!! YAY!!!!!!

Day One of Wig-Wearing Under My Belt

I had started to write this blog entry last night after my Chem lab, but a kid whom I had met several years ago during my first year at CCBC grabbed me to start talking. Apparently, he never forgot me, even with a wig on my head.

So yesterday was my first day in wig-wearing glory. The night before was when I had purchased it from the wig store on Taylor & Loch Raven (The one that everyone who I had talked to always raved about.) which turned out to be a very less emotional experience the second time around.

Ever since that first time in the wig shop, I had realized that I wasn't fully ready as much as I thought I was. I don't think that I had fully accepted who I was without the wig, even though I truly thought I had moved on from that, until I hung out at my friend Scott's house a couple weeks ago.

Scott is a DJ. Well, he just started and his first "true" gig was at XS the other night. So I tagged along with a group of people to show some support. After the restaurant closed, we decided to head over to Scott's house to have some food and some mojitos.

This was the first time that these guys would see me the closest I have ever been to being bald. And what was even cooler was that previously that night, when Jolee came to pick me up from my house, I just ran down the steps with no hat on, with nothing to answer the door.

I don't know what compelled me to do that, but I was really glad that I had. I think it was just time. That and a high disregard for not having enough time to put a hat on. Irregardless of what the reasons were behind it, if any, I answered that door with my dome completely exposed.

I think half way through my walk up the steps once they started to follow me into the house it hit me that I was bald and I felt my heart skip a beat. But by that time I had already committed myself - so I just went with it.

It felt so incredibly freeing. I mean I have read so many posts from people talking about how they revealed their bald heads to the world - and how it felt so freeing but I never thought I'd ever feel it to the extent that I felt it. It was like freedom had come to fruition.

So it wasn't any surprise that later on, while at Scott's house, I suddenly just lifted the hat off my head - and sat there on the couch, continuing on my conversation with Godfather Sage - with no hesitation whatsoever.

And that was it - that was the point where I knew it was time to get the wig. I know it sounds sort of backwards really, why would I be getting a wig just now as I am becoming completely comfortable with being bald? Why cover up that free feeling?

Well because when I first went to the wig store that's exactly what I was doing. Covering up my embarrassment. My shame, my horror, my fears, and my sadness. That wig was doing everything that I was too scared to do - to just face my fears and the truth of it all and embrace it. That's why it wasn't time. That's why I was so consumed with sadness and emotional turmoil.

But now that I am free. Now that I know I am comfortable with being bald - just walking around my house, going to sleep, taking out the trash, exercising - now that I know that, I can now go to the wig store and buy that wig because I WANT to, not because I feel I NEED to. A wig is not something a person should NEED. It should be something a person should WANT. And that's what I wanted to feel. That's what made it the right time for me. Because I knew at that point, the wig wasn't going to hide anything that I hadn't already come to accept. The wig is my play time, my fun time... it is my ability to express that inner crazy self that leaps out in so many other ways - why can't wig wearing be one of them, too?

Testing, testing: One, Two, Three...

Today is my second Chemistry exam which I spent all of ...five hours (plus the one hour today) studying for.

Do I feel confident? Hell no.

Do I care? Kinda, sorta.

I'm in one of those downbeat days. The ones where you dress up nice to make up for the fact that you feel like absolute crap.

I feel like I am losing grip on everything. And that honesty might not always be the best policy for me. I tend to just say how I feel and not think about what other people are going to think or how they might react. And then it always backfires with them getting angry, or frustrated.

I need to find a happy medium with what I let come out of my mouth ... or some really strong duct tape.

Trying to come to terms...

This boy wants to play, there's no time left today
It's a shame 'cause he has to go home
This boy got to work, got to sweat
just to pay what he gets to get left all alone

Well let's step outside, let's go for a ride just for a while
Oh we won't get caught, well that's what I thought
until we cried

I'm still here
but it hasn't been easy
I'm sure that you had your reasons
I'm scared of all this emotion
For years I've been holding it down
For years I've been holding it down

This girl tries her best every day
but it's all gone to waste cause there's no one around
This girl, she can draw, she can paint, likes to dance,
she can skate - now she don't make a sound
We'll play in the park, till it's too dark for us to see
We'll make our way home, with mud on our clothes,
she won't be pleased...

I'm still here
but it hasn't been easy
I'm sure that you had your reasons
I'm scared of all this emotion
For years I've been holding it down

And I love to forgive and forget
so I'll try to put all this behind us
Just know that my arms are wide open
The older that I get the more that I know
Well it's time to let this go...

I've got to let it go, I've got to let it go
I've got to let it go, I've got to let it go

I'm still here,
but it hasn't been easy
I'm sure that you had your reasons
I'm scared of all this emotion
For years I've been holding it down

And I'd love to forgive and forget
So I tried to put all this behind us
Just know that my arms are wide open
The older I get the more that I know...

And I'd love to forgive and forget
So I tried to put all this behind us
Just know that my arms are wide open
The older I get the more that I know
Well it's time to let this go


-"This Boy" by James Morrison

Plastic Heads

I went to the wig shop last night for the very first time. My father and I were in the neighborhood of the one that people kept suggesting to me, so I decided to have him drop me off to check it out while he went grocery shopping.


As I walked through the doors, for no reason at all, I choked up. I'm still not quite sure where that came from - I didn't realize how nervous I was subconsciously until I immediately was faced with rows and rows of plastic heads covered with wigs.


It was overwhelming, and almost like walking through a Halloween store for me. None of them looked like me. I kept reminding myself that this wasn't for a costume anymore, this was for the real deal. I suddenly realized that I could easily make a wrong decision and it might end up looking hideous and ridiculously out of place on my head. I also suddenly realized that maybe I wasn't as ready as I thought I was, emotionally.

I don't know how to explain this to anyone so that they might fully understand. There are plenty of people out there who buy wigs; according to some of my girlfriends, it is becoming a popular trend among celebrities even. It's not an unusual practice, and just by wearing a wig, it isn't going to mark me as a freak. BUT...

this is new to me.

It didn't matter to me that there were about twenty people already in the store roaming around and trying on extensions and wigs. It didn't matter that they had rows and rows of hair products and a hairstylist section where you could sit down and have the wig shaped and cut to your liking after you had purchased it.

What hit me first was walking past the longer hair wigs. The ones that reminded me of what my hair used to look like. I think that because I have lived with this patchy baldness for the past two months already that I had grown accustomed to how it looks in the mirror. It wasn't until I approached the long haired section that I started to tear up. I touched the frayed ends of what is remaining of my hair now and realized that I almost couldn't remember what it felt like to have long hair. I almost couldn't remember what it was like to pull it back into a ponytail when it got humid and it used to stick to the back of my neck. I used to hate that, and it irritated me to the point of no return.

I would give anything to feel my hair press against my sweaty neck like that now. Anything.

That frightened me. I could barely remember. What did I look like? Why didn't I appreciate it more than I did when I had it? Did I really use to have those wispy bangs? Was I really able to have cute curls at one time? It might seem like I am clinging too much to a painful past, but I know for a fact that I never want to forget what that felt like. What it looked like. Because I know I have to keep the dream alive that I will get back to that girl again, for my own inner strength purposes.

My life seems to be filled with these complicated situations recently where I am flooded with an abundance of mixed feelings and emotions. Wanting and not wanting things, in particular.

A part of me was excited, hopeful, wanting to try every single wig on. The other part of me kept saying it wasn't time yet, emotionally, I just am not ready.

The girl who was walking around spotted me and came over.

"Do you need any help with anything?" she asked, with a smile, "Do you want to look at the wigs?"

"Well, yes, but I don't know where to begin. This is my first time in a wig shop. Do you have human hair and synthetic?"

"Yes, we have both. Human hair is marked with green tags, and synthetics are pink tags," she said, pointing to the rows on the wall.

"What is the main difference between the two, would you say?" I asked, nervously biting my lip. The longer I looked, the more the collection of wigs seemed to grow.

"Human hair can be styled with heat, and curled. The synthetic wigs cannot," the girl said, still smiling.

"Well, I noticed over there while looking at the longer hair ones that they were held on with a comb. Do you think that you have ones with Velcro holders?" I asked.

"The back comb ones? Well all of them come with the Velcro option. You just buy one of the hair wig nets and place them on first and then they connect with the top of the wig," she said picking a random wig off one of the plastic heads to show me.

My eyes widened a little at the unexpected move of how easily she pulled the wig off that plastic head. A minute ago it looked like an Asian woman's head with a nice full head of hair styled with girls, and now the hair lay in between her hands, lifeless. She turned it over to show me the inside.

"Do you see the clip here? You can adjust the inside so that it fits tighter on your head. Like a bra strap," she said as she unhooked the little piece inside of it and moved it over one to the next hook holder.

I nodded, "That's exactly what I was wondering. It's just that I have alopecia ...and I don't think I have enough hair to hold the back comb ones down."

I have gotten used to saying that word. I tried to incorporate it into my vocabulary so I wouldn't choke up anymore at the sound of it.

She nodded and didn't seem affected at all by my blunt statement of my abnormal-ness. What had taken me months to say outright in a few seconds, this girl took as a grain of salt. It's amazing how some stuff works like that.

After a short pause she walked back over and placed the wig back on the plastic head.

"So do you want to try one on?" she smiled.

No, no, no, said the inner me, it's too scary, it's too real. You're bald. You're bald. This is fake hair. Fake.

"Yes," said the outer me.

"Good, I'll be right back with a fresh wig cap," she said disappearing into the back.

In the middle of the wig section was a table and a swivel chair on one side and a stationary chair on the other. On top of the table with a big mirror.

The girl returned with a black sock-looking thing.

"Here," she said handing it to me, "Just put it on your head."

I stood in front of that mirror and slowly removed my hat. In the fluorescent lights of the store, my discolored scalp and bald spots looked red, irritated and enormous. I quickly stretched out the cap and placed it on top of my scalp and tucked in the ends of my hair.

"Alright, please pick out one that you'd like to try," the girl said once she saw the cap on my head.

I still was trying to get used to what I looked like with the black cap on. I turned around and looked up at the rows and rows of wigs.

After a few minutes of staring like a kid in a huge toy store, I looked at the girl with a nervous smile and laugh.

"I have no idea what I like... I want it to look real. I don't want it to look..." my voice dropped off. Mainly because the word I was looking for was 'wig'. Which was unavoidable at this point.

The girl gave me a kind of look. "Well, they are wigs. Just chose the style you want. Have fun with it."

I went to the other side of the plastic heads and stared at the row of mid-length hair pieces.

My eyes caught onto a mid-length black one with brown streaks. It caught my eye because it reminded me of the color of my hair before.

"Can I try that one on?" I asked, pointing to it.

"Of course," said the girl walking over to it already. She leisurely lifted it from the plastic head and motioned for me to sit in the swivel chair in front of the mirror.

I watched as she played with the "bra straps" of the wig on the inside to make it fit my head.

She motioned to the mirror to indicate for me to look into it while she placed the wig on my head for me.

I watched as she stretched the front on first, adjusting the hairline so that it fit on my head in the correct position. She reached underneath and towards the nape of my neck to straighten out the back of the wig.

And then she proceeded to comb it.

It was the weirdest, surrealist feeling I had ever felt before. I almost didn't want to look into the mirror because up to that point I had been staring at the table top.

When I lifted my eyes, I couldn't believe how real it looked. But it wasn't my hair. I shoved that thought into the back of my mind and tried to focus on the wig itself, and how it looked on my head.

At first it felt awkward, but once I started running my fingers through it, I got used to its look. It had wispy bangs, which would need to be cut once I bought it because they kept swiping into my eyes.

"I think it looks perfect on you," exclaimed the girl, standing back as if to admire her handywork.

"You do?" I asked, "you know, I really like it, too..."

But I didn't buy it. I had to sleep on it.

When I got home later on, I sat in my apartment with a glass of black raspberry wine and scribbled for three hours into my journal.

Today, I think I'll go back to purchase it. It's a big step. And even if I go out and buy it, I am not sure when I'd wear it out - whether I'd be comfortable with wearing it out or whether I'd spend the entire night wondering if other people thought I was wearing a wig. Or worse - knew I was wearing a wig.

One step at a time though, right?

Master of Musical Irony

Damn stupid fucking school computers. Won't let me compose in the main spot, so if this looks funky, it's because I had to type it in the "Edit HTML" area. And since I am HTML illiterate, this post will just have to look funky.

Okay, so as I was thinking before I was so rudely interrupted by this incompetent piece of crap for a computer...

I was just sitting here listening to my iPod while waiting for my Mom to decide to come and pick me up from school. It's 9:26 pm and I don't think she realizes the things that I still have yet to do tonight - I have to prepare my 6 minute speech for tomorrow about Korea. I also have to create the poster on poster board, and do my hair. I also have to go back to my apartment to pick out clothes so that I have something to wear tomorrow (I start my driving training tomorrow with the State and I am pretty nervous.). I have to do all of this TONIGHT. And yet she told me that I just have to hold on a minute and stay here a little while longer.

Thus why I am blogging while listening to my iPod.

Anyways, I just realized while sitting here and listening to some Phil Collins that he is totally the master of musical irony.

Listen to the beginning of "Throwing It All Away" by Genesis and you'll see what I mean. It starts out with such a happy melody, and then once you get into the song and really listen to the song, it's really kinda sad. Depressing, even.

I mean, take a listen to "Invisible Touch". I am sure all of you danced to it one time or another, but have you really ever listened to the lyrics? It's about a woman that he doesn't even know the name of, that he's never been with - and yet he knows he's in love with. It's basically about that desperation of loving someone you'll never be able to be near.

It amazes me how much Phil Collins is able to take a crap paddy and stuff it in a neat little box and tie it with a pretty ribbon. It becomes a crap paddy disguised as a gift. A pretty little neat package of feel-good toe-tapping beats, with sad, depressing and realistic lyrics tucked in between.

Oh Phil Collins, you genius, you. Thank God you're back on tour with Genesis. Genesis without you is like peanut butter and jelly without the jelly.

I had a blog post sitting in editing but...

Today - all I feel like doing is listening to my iPod (specifically the song below by The Format) because it's just setting my mood. I am actually pretty content and happy today, but this song totally just struck me as another way of expressing how I've been feeling recently.


The Format - "I'm Ready, I Am"

I'm nicotine, I'm coming clean
I fooled the crowd when I made it sound
like I was more then ready

Strike up the band, deprive
My sleep cause there's no love like apathy
the bell that tolls rings loud enough
that it should have woke us up

[chorus]
I'm trying to find truth in words,
in rhymes, in notes, in all the things
I wish I'd wrote cause
I feel like I've been losing you

I read your last entry
over-privileged kids keep crying
the need to fit in is harder when living life from a screen.
old Classmates, please drop all your pens
don't write a word cause I wont reply
and I'm not bitter, no its just
I've passed that point in my life

[chorus]
I'm trying to find truth in words,
in rhymes, in notes, in all the things
I wish I'd wrote cause
I feel like I've been losing you.

Each night it ends too soon
you don't hold me like you used to
and your eyes look like they've seen too much.
Its always some excuse too tired,
too obtuse, you look so far removed,
this time I fear I'm losing you

I'm nicotine, I'm a cash machine
I'm the colour green and you should have seen
the looks I just received

I need a reason to let go an intervention,
a lullaby something to cure me
please believe me

[chorus]
I'm trying to find truth in words,
in rhymes, in notes, in all the things
I wish I'd wrote cause
I feel like I'm losing you.