Arty shot from the laptop because… Well, she was being annoyingly cute again.

(not so) spectacular vernacular
Arty shot from the laptop because… Well, she was being annoyingly cute again.
Ok, so I lost count with my Weekly Bindis.
In my defence, I had a lot going on. I went on a whimsical weekend with my husband and I was busily preparing for my epic-but-very-short trip to the USofA – from which I am still recovering after getting back a couple days ago already.
But for now, here is a collection edition of The Weekly Bindi. And by collection I mean cheating with one session when my cat was being ultra cute shortly before I left on my adventure.
I know that I have fallen behind with my Weekly Bindi. Pictures have been taken, I just haven’t been able to get on to post them.
See, I am going bald.
Slowly.
Painfully slowly.
But steadily.
It’s a slow-burn sort of agony in the same way that orgasms are a slow-burn sort of agony, only NOWHERE near as much fun.
But it’s that sort of loss where I can see it and very few other people can. Those who see me every day can see it.
And a few days ago I actually discovered a bald patch that’s appeared. It’s not completely bald as such, but only the ultra-fine baby hairs that never grow are there. Cue breakdown.
I am not a vain person. I try not to be. But in my life, my one redeeming feature was my hair. Long, naturally honey-blonde, and dense. It’s always been fine but very dense. Not anymore, sadly.
For the past ten or so years, I’ve had a handful bouts of what is called Telogen Effluvium. It’s the natural process of hair-loss but it’s dialed up to eleven. Sadly, each time this has happened, my hair has never fully recovered even though, technically, it’s supposed to grow back as it normally would as hair follicles move out of the resting phase. What has prompted these bouts of effluvium has always been a mystery to me. I know the first time was a reaction to some medication and massive stress. These subsequent times… I am clueless.
And I’m stressing over it.
And of course, the vicious cycle continues apace.
Needless to say, it’s been a distraction.
Anyway, here’s a picture of Bindi and I, cuddling on the couch while watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
The only way you can see Dugite’s stripes is if you put false ones on her. She is actually a stripy tabby.
“…She can only disguise, and only for those eager to believe whatever comes easiest. She cannot turn cream into butter, but she can make a lion look like a manticore to eyes that want to see a manticore. Just like she put a false horn on a real unicorn so they can see the unicorn. I know you. If I were blind, I would know what you are…” Schmendrick, The Last Unicorn, Peter S Beagle