No mo NaBloPoMo?

I was blogsurfing this morning when I came across Eden's post about her evolving relationship with NaBloPoMo. Are you doing it? I've climbed that mountain a couple times, and I have to admit that November is a tough month. How are you supposed to maintain such an arduous daily discipline during that last crucial week when the entire nation is sending everything straight to voicemail? And as we gird ourselves for the joyous combat of Thanksgiving, taking time to write feels like piloting the Enterprise into a Romulan shitstorm and using the deflector-shield energy to run the blender.

I left a comment there, and then realized I should have just written something about it myself. So I am, although credit needs to be paid to Eden's relentlessly proliferant mindbox.

Here is a picture of me at Day 18 of Movember, hiding behind two rectangular gadgets. (Groucho Marx in pink gauze.) I've been in this relationship for nearly three weeks now, and I don't mind telling you that the novelty is fading. It didn't start with a breathtaking pang, but gradually, she grew on me. And before too long people said we looked good together.

Now, however, I've started to feel like I need a little space, since it seems like she's always around. And it's becoming obvious that she is spending a lot of energy trying to change my appearance. The physical affection is still there; she's very soft and likes to be stroked. But I feel like something essential to me is being compromised, and the story of me is more about How I Look instead of Who I Am.

It seems mean to dump her before Thanksgiving, since she's new in town and doesn't know many people. I'll probably feel better about myself if I bring her along to meet my family next Thursday, even though they're likely to offer their snarky commentary while she's right there in front of them. She'll feel diminished and seem very distant for a few days until I inevitably have to cut her loose.

I haven't given up hope, though. One day, she might make a really great beard.