Last Sunday, I woke up, rolled out of bed, and stumbled upon a bright ray of sun shooting through the crack in our window blinds on my way to the bathroom. When I reached the destination, I looked in the mirror and I instantly knew. There was no reason to deny it. I was having a severely bad hair day. (Same as last Saturday. And Wednesday. And all Tuesdays of 2007, and Thursdays through Saturdays of the 1900s.)
Bringing my hair to a civilized state of being requires labor, time, and PATIENCE. The latter is the one component I lack on a regular basis. That’s the reason I had finally cut my hair short. To celebrate my freedom, I didn’t use a comb for six months after the execution.
These days my morning hair-grooming routine looks something like this:
– enter the bathroom with my eyes closed;
– hop in the shower with the lights off (bright light in the morning would turn me into a pile of dust);
– get thoroughly wet by standing motionless directly under a heavy current of warm water;
– wake up;
– get out of the shower and pat myself dry, a towel often expedites the process;
– march to the kitchen and set the coffee machine on;
– get dressed;
– blow dry my hair (1 minute to dry);
– rub a dime-size blob of hair product between my hands and apply it to my mop.
Some days, this works like a strawberry-banana milkshake and my hair require no further comments. On the odd days, I look like a cross between Simon Cowell and Edward The Scissorhand.
(Sorry I’m blurry.)
As long as I can get my partner aroused, I’m cool with it.
There are times, however, I just must get out of my neighborhood and run away where nobody knows me. Hence, on that particular Sunday four days ago we went to Silverlake to make out with spring.
Oopsy Daisy! All those darling hummingbirds, see-through butterflies and sunny oranges captured my imagination and the sense of time and space. Pardon me. I have run out of space today, how careless of me. I shall return with a new recipe as soon as I manage to calm down my hair.
(Director’s Cut of the last paragraph: Crap! I’ve OD-ed on fresh air and now I’m dizzy. Shit. Sorry peeps, no food-talk today. I’m having a bad hair day.)