Sunday, April 27, 2008
100 Words on Shaving Off My Beard
I shaved off my beard this evening. I’m always tempted to leave the mustache and soul patch when I do. One winter when I did such a thing, I had let my hair grow out to a wooly mane and looked rather bad-ass with just a fu-manchu and triangle under the lip, like a thug sneering back in the mirror. That is, until I put on my glasses; then I looked like a Civil War re-enactor. Now, I don’t know what I look like but I can feel the movement of butterflies miles away in the breeze against my cheek.