A few evenings ago, Beloved Husband looked at me and said that my recent haircut reminds him of Sweet Polly Purebred. I do love the description of Polly from the Heroes Wiki: she "is a female anthropomorphic dog TV news reporter who is Underdog's love interest." I have indeed been always fond of individuals who are considered the underdog in various situations, so it seems somewhat appropriate. The similarity may end there, though -- Polly is oftentimes the "damsel in distress" who is rescued by Underdog, and I... am far more Underdog than damsel.
In truth, I am not yet used to the new haircut. On the one hand, it occasionally looks nice. On the other hand, I cannot shake the feeling that it is a Middle Aged Woman's haircut, and I am still a tiny bit in denial that I am such a woman. (Denial - not just a river in Egypt.) Also, sometimes I look in the mirror and see my mother. While that is not necessarily in and of itself a bad thing, it does remind me that I am no longer Young.
Every now and then, I look at my reflection, and despair. (I am so often reminded of Inside Amy Schumer: Last F*ckable Day. So funny. And yet, so on point.) But what does it matter, anyway? I wonder why humans are so hardwired to care whether other people find them attractive. I definitely need to let it go, for those days are past.
On the other hand, Sweet Polly Purebred is charming in her own way. Perhaps that is the best I can hope for.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment