A Few Things that Freak Me Out

1.  I have a chin hair.  I’m not embarrassed to admit it.  I just check my chin and when I feel it, I grab the tweezers, get in front of a mirror, look for a dark spot, and yank it out.  But today, when I went to pluck it, I couldn’t see it.  I managed to grab a hold of it anyway, and get it out.  And I looked at it there on my finger and, America!, do you know why I couldn’t see it?!??!

Because it was gray!

Holy shit!  My one chin hair is gray!

I’m not even thirty-five yet.  Just tell me now, when do the gray pubes come?  And how do you not just go out back and dig a shallow grave to lie in every night after that?

I always used to make fun of my parents when they’d get together with their friends and give each other a litany of all the stuff that’s going wrong with them, but now that I’m older, I see it’s because you still feel like everything should work the way it has and your body has other ideas and it’s just hard to fucking reconcile.

On the other hand, apparently nobody but me even has pubic hair anymore, so maybe no one knows when it goes gray and, when mine does, I’ll be able to join a circus sideshow and make my fortune showing people the twin marvels of pubic hair and gray hair among them.

So, there’s an upside to the whole thing.

2.  So, we spent a bunch of money and time as a city to come up with a plan for what to do with the river front and we’d settled on something everyone seemed happy with (including a forest, which tickles me so much because it seems to have just a little touch of whimsy to it in a way that appeals to me) and the Mayor is being a giant douchebag.

3.  I can’t even talk to you about this post because it freaks me out so much.  It’s this part that does it–“What happened to the mice in the other trials?”  Exercise away.  Eat as well as you can.  Lose weight if you can.  Hell, keep it off if you can.  But once you start talking about taking a pill that makes you shit yourself, or hacking off parts of your insides, or drilling into your brain, I just feel like we’ve crossed a line from body modification because it pleases you to body modification as a way of publicly acting out how much you hate yourself.  It is the difference between piercing your ears and cutting your arms.

4.  Ha, so I wrote to the Feds about e. tennesseensis and they forwarded my email on to someone at the state, who says, basically, that the state would rather gardeners didn’t plant Tennessee coneflowers.  I asked and they said–“Preferably not.  If too many people start doing this in their gardens there is actually the potential for pollinators to carry pollen from gardens to wild populations, and vice versa, at higher than normal rates.  This can lead to genetic homogeneity of all the populations and potentially weaken the chance that the species can survive long-term in a changing environment.”

And it just went downhill from there.  I personally find myself charming in print, but when I asked about planting them along the road to keep the state from widening it–and even said I was joking–I was sternly warned against such a thing.

Pftt.  Anyway, yes, e. tennesseensis will cross-breed with other coneflowers if you have them in your garden.

So… I’m still going to Fairview to buy e. tennesseensis to put in my yard.  I’m still also going to plant other coneflowers.  Does this make me a bad person?  I don’t think so.  First of all, I live way on the other end of the county from where the wild populations are, so it’s not like my population is going to have any effect on those.  And second, fine, so I’ll have coneflowers in my yard that started out being all different types of echinacea but after a few generations became e. purpurea “whites creek” and then I’ll sell them and become rich.

After all, by that point, I’ll be traveling the country with the circus sideshow, so I’ll have plenty of chances to sell folks on the beauty and uniqueness of my coneflowers.

9 thoughts on “A Few Things that Freak Me Out

  1. Don’t worry, W. I didn’t narc you out. I do hope, though, that, when the come north they give me enough warning so I can dig up my bulbs.

  2. I have a chin hair too. Actually 3 of them that come out in a very tiny area on my chin. Oh, and then there is the recently discovered neck hair. Did I mention I’m turning into my Granny? Now, the chin hairs are not gray, yet. But I’ve decided I’m 3/4 of the way fully gray headed and my 34th birthday is this weekend. Luckily, I spied hair color on sale at the Dollar General for $7.50 and snatched that shit up, came home and colored my hair myself for the first time in 10 years – I saved $93, even though I feel a bit like I’m cheating on my colorist – but screw it, this economy is making most of us cut corners.

    I always used to make fun of my parents when they’d get together with their friends and give each other a litany of all the stuff that’s going wrong with them, but now that I’m older, I see it’s because you still feel like everything should work the way it has and your body has other ideas and it’s just hard to fucking reconcile.

    No kidding. I feel like my body is either betraying me or playing a joke on me sometimes. Like when I squat down and both my knees crack loudly. That’s fun…

  3. I’ve had chin hairs since I hit puberty. Always in the same three places, no matter how much I yank them out. I still have pubic hair, too. Was I supposed not to? I must have thrown the memo away.

    Also, does anyone have any idea why Dean is acting this way? Is it a funding issue, or does he just hate the river?

  4. Ok, to make this easier, will any woman who doesn’t have chin hair weigh in? Otherwise, I’m concluding that this is just something that most women have.

  5. I am going to start the Aunt B fan club. Or does it already exist? Tell me where to send in my yearly payment.

    Seriously – thanks for always making me laugh and for being honest. I think I’m going to buy a t-shirt because it will be like buying you a beer, since all the proceeds go there anyway. Virtual beer it is!

  6. Yup, B. We all have chin hair. One of mine is doing the fade-to-dingy thing my head hair did as a precursor to turning grey. So I’m only a wee bit behind you on that one. I’ll be 33 this year (and since I’m on pain meds from a helluva dentist appointment this AM, I actually had to verify my age with the husband before typing it), and my head hair is quite silver, although the silver never sees the light of day! As for pubic hair, I used to remove it BECAUSE of the grey hairs. Now I leave it to disguise the stretch marks from two low-lying pregnancies. *sigh*

    If my brain still feels 18, shouldn’t my body? Or can I at least join your sideshow? I’ll be the woman with who wears wooly knee-socks to keep her now-low-lying nipples warm…

    And plant the coneflowers, love the coneflowers. :)

  7. As to #1: This very morning, no lie, I was gobsmacked when I happened to notice a gray pube. So the answer to your question is: 55.

  8. My partner started getting gray hairs on his head at 19. I got a gray pubic hair at 26. We’re way ahead of you.

    Of course, currently I have very few hairs anywhere on my body due to chemotherapy. I’m kinda jealous of anyone with a full batch of hair, regardless of the color or location.

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