Do I Need This?

It’s Not That Big!

I am finally back home in Paris. After a 36ish hour travel day (and-a-half) I got in late the other night. It is cold, overcast, and miserable. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Fun fact: plugs for electronics in Europe are different than outlets in the United States. Other fun fact: my dumbass forgot my adapter. My beard is that of a psycho college professor intent on doing harm. Once I post this I plan on shaving it down with a hacksaw so I can pass as slightly less feral.

My hair on the other hand. Whew, it is glorious. It is longer than it has been since high school when I rocked a glam mullet. Now, I am so grateful to have a full head of gorgeous, wavy hair at the age of 52, but… my hair does not get long, it gets big. So it had to get through the pompadour Elvis phase before it could get to the Michael Sheen stage. It is wavy all around, borderline curly on top. My wife says she likes it, but she’s painfully polite (midwestern girls, ammirite) so I don’t know if she really likes it, or thinks I like it and wants to placate me.

I won’t ask you assholes because I am not in the mood for a roast. My aunt is going to read this and have big head jokes anyway. I am still traumatized by that nickname from my childhood. Yeah, they really called me that.

Hey, Big Head… I need to cry.

I’ll be back.

It’s not so much that my head was big as it was that the rest of me was so small. It’s like trimming the bushes to make the … building look bigger. It’s not really bigger, it just looks that way. That was the problem with my head.

Point is, my mop is at a precarious stage. I could easily get it all butchered off if I screw up the translation when I head to my usual dude. Or, I could just let it grow some more. Or I could screw my dude over and go find an English speaking stylist. But I can’t do the latter because I love my dude. So I have to risk that my French is going to carry the day and get me trimmed up just right.

Ugh, I was not expecting to have to deal with these sorts of life decisions or relive this childhood trauma when I came home!

Rudy as an adorable child
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