Many wonder what's next, not just for Zembla the Blog, but for Me the Person. Zembla will continue to feature the content you know and love, like "How We Met", "Socially Antagonistic Behavior From My Youth", "Dialogue-Based Piece About Historical/Literary Figure", and "Petty Rant." Your favorite characters are still here, including Young Sean, Sean's dad, and Henry Kissinger, along with new faces like Henry Clay (the Great Compromiser) and Sean's Former Girlfriend, who will sometimes appear in entries, since we are still friends.
For Me the Person, it is a time of upheaval. I am rudderless, adrift without the guidance and support I've come to take for granted in the past few months. There is no one to let me know if my hair is styled fashionably, or grossly caked with texture cream. I can't tell by myself. I am the only one who decides if and when to go to bed at night, if and when to wake up in the morning. Even if I were motivated and chipper, rather than sad and depressed, there would be no real need to dress up, to cook nutritious food, to shower regularly, because I'm not trying for anyone's approval.
It is in this spirit that I announce my plans for regrowth, and not just the emotional kind. Since Sunday afternoon, I have been growing a goatee, or, as I prefer to call it, Facial Hair Of Emotional Recovery (FHOER for short). Three days later, there are at least twelve individual hairs adorning my chin. I am well under way.
I can already anticipate the protests:
Goatees look miserable.
Yes, they do. Still, I feel miserable, so it wouldn't be a dishonest look.
Can you even grow a goatee, Sean?
I plan to find out. I have no doubt that I can grow an impressive patch of hair on the very bottom of my chin. The mustache and the parts that run down either side of the mouth, maybe not so much.
Why shave at all? Why not grow the biggest and best beard you can, if you're growing one at all?
First, I would like it to be very clear that I am not becoming slothful, or neglecting my cleaning and grooming habits. My cheeks will be clean-shaven, as will my neck. The Facial Hair Of Emotional Recovery will be a defined zone of beard and healing, not a patchy, haphazard scruff. OK, it might still be patchy, but the FHOER will be clearly an intentional choice, no matter how horribly misguided a choice it is.
Don't put conditioner on the FHOER. It will make your chin break out.
Come on, goatees are the worst thing ever! I'd rather see a sweaty, hairy armpit than some lame frat boy beard!
I've also given up shaving my armpits.
The Quest for Regrowth and Recovery (QFRAR) has already begun. Check this space for updates on the FHOER, the QFRAR, and the REVULSION of polite society. The noble goat inspired the words for "tragedy" as well as for "shitty chin beard". Clearly, that is no coincidence.