This weekend I had my hair cut pretty short. It is always short, but this time I wanted it even shorter in preparation for two weeks in the Alps. Tonight I dreamt that Rada Iveković, my childhood friend, was quite distraught when she saw how short my hair had been cut. “Why do you do this?” she kept asking. “No, really,” she insisted, her eyebrows wriggling in pain, “why do you cut your hair so very short?” I kept spreading my arms in dismay and grinning stupidly. I had no idea how to begin answering her question, let alone provide a meaningful answer.