Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Yesterday Today Tomorrow

The greatest joy of spring is smelling the yesterday, today, tomorrow bushes ( or trees?). There is one in front of my window and the scent fills my room slowly while I am at the university and then when I get back my room smells so great. I just want to wrap myself in this pillow of soft-blossomed-sweetness.

Spring must be everyone's favourite time of year. Summer is way too hot, winter way too cold, and autumn does not really do anything for us, except if you live somewhere where the leaves drop from the trees in amazing showers of colourful diversity. But here, well, autumn is nice with slightly milder weather, but you know winter is coming when the earth goes dry and all the previously lush front lawns suddenly become this light-yellowish place of drought and one can see the red-brown earth surfacing between dying blades of grass.

The one bad aspect of spring, for me, is shaving. During winter there is no need to shave one's legs, because they are always covered, and even if you wear stockings your hair growth will be covered. But oh no, come spring, everyone suddenly wears non-existent shorts and skirts that barely cover the behind when one is standing. Not that I conform to unnecessary showings of flesh, but a skirt of decent length sadly also requires that one shave. Ugh and I hate it. I almost cut half my leg of once and since then I am really not into the idea of scarring myself permanently again. Shaving is a risk. But on the other hand, the stubble that has formed over the winter hibernation does look slightly unsightly and it doesn't feel to great either if touched by someone who is not a guitar player and thus does not have really calloused fingertips.

My sister and I once jointly bought an epilator. I think that is what the torture machine is officially called. Heidi Klum advertises for it ( well, she really advertises for everything). The monster individually pulls out the hair and the sound it makes is just torturous. It makes this really fast squealing sound and I just think that that is enough to put me off. I tried the monster on my knee once, but I am against inflicting pain on myself if it is not necessary.

In any case, I had to bring out the shaver again, but I do not trust the little blade, and I am kind of inclined to forget about shaving only to realize in class that my legs look quite unevenly tanned and rather furry. But luckily my original hair colour shows itself on my legs and the little hairs are too light to see if one is not quite close. I understand women with darker hair cannot make the same mistake and have it not be noticeable.

I think we should all just let everything grow. Go back to our primal, hair-full selves. But then again, we all conform to photo-shopped smoothness of media depictions of what "normal" people look like and perhaps subconsciously we want to be only selectively hairy. Maybe the hair-loss is also a sign of evolution, a distinguishing mark of having moved beyond the ape. Its quite ironic that women go to extreme lengths to remove unsightly hairs and men go to extreme lengths to grow hair.

I don't really know. I was just thinking about how I will wear pants tomorrow because I am too lazy to shave.

This is Noah and the Whale with " I have nothing". 

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