"it's a beard, spliced with cheese and a piece of chalk"; or "how i spent my summer vacation"

how crazy is it to have a beard, when you live in the tropics? i mean, it's probably not the smartest thing to do, huh? don't get me wrong, i've gone fuzzy and have practically developed a razor allergy, but i have noticed that this has seemed like the hottest summer ever. probably not a coincidence. although, the a/c in my being broke may be contributing, as well. and why is a beard so appealing anyway? "oh man! i got it!! i think i want to look more like a bear." what the hell is that? i know that for me, the half-formed concept for the original growth was some kind of "transformation," like some kind of man-boy caterpillar becoming a more beatific and refined adult version of himself. a break from the past. there was also a conscious desire to erect a barrier between my raw, symbolically exposed face and the outside world (the same world that was seemingly intent on trying to kill me, at least at the time.) and you know what? this crazy scraggle appears to actually be working for those purposes. and now that i've started to believe in myself a bit more, become at least more comfortable in my own (furrier) skin, the beard and i have become inseparable, indistinguishable. plus, the chicks dig it. no, really. yeah, i don't get that either, but i'm not going to ask to many questions. so i guess i'll just have to invest in some more deodorant sticks and thinner, 'summerier' clothes, because apparently a beard is man's best friend.