When squirrels outnumber sunbathers around campus;
When geese bombard my house with poop;
When my “neighbor” blows their leaves into my lawn;
It is time to grow my hair out.
It amazes me, annually, how different people treat you when you’re fuzzy. For me it has nothing to do with “hippy” and everything to do with “insulation”; little to do with “lazy” and much more to do with “preventing frostbite”. I [try to] get outside quite a bit in the winter. I don’t enjoy it, per se- I hate being cold and would much rather be on a sailboat in the Caribbean- but neither am I going to sit around and whine about the 9 months of winter we have. I choose to live here, and choose to make the most of it. Getting my beard on is just one way of making it a little more tolerable… Albeit a little more itchy.