I had a dream that I got my old Pepe LePew lesbian haircut. You know, buzz short in back with a shock of bangs in the front. It felt good. I ran my hands up and down the back of my head to feel its sparkle and scrub against my palms.

"I love it! I don't even regret losing my long hair!" I thought, even though in waking life I would regret it quite a bit. I've cut off my hair about 6 different times, and I always wind up crying and upset that I look so butch. I jumped around, feeling free of my hair and ready to run a bunch of miles. I looked little and cute.

Of course, in the dream I weighed about 110 pounds and didn't have massive jowls or a wattle to contend with. I look fine with really short hair when I'm a waif. Otherwise, let's just choose a hairstyle that balances out a jaw that makes me think Freddie Mercury must have been my bio-dad.

Hair or not, I will try to run more and eat sensibly. This is my time to get it taken care of.

L'chaim.