Sunday, June 18, 2006

LETTER TO MY HAIR

Dear Hair,

I bet you can't believe the number of different cutters you've had over the years, including Yours Truly. Remember all those times the stylist would ask me with an arched, quizical eyebrow "Who cut your hair last?" and I had to sheepishly admit to the deed? Don't be mad, Hair. I used those tiny pelican-shaped sewing scissors to keep your unruly strands in place. I can't run to the salon every time a new layer shows up that throws off the whole schema. Sometimes I have to take matters into my own hands. Just think of me as a Vigilante Stylist.

Wasn't it weird when you went from straight to wavy when I was in college? Wasn't it tortuous when I slept in pink foam 'n' plastic rollers at night to create smooth curls for school or a party? I can't imagine folding myself around foam and plastic for eight hours straight. Ouch!

I'm sorry, Hair. I do owe you an apology for that one.

The worst now will be getting highlights once a year, an occasional 30-second blow-dry, maybe a few styling products on humid days like this one. Thanks for being there for me over the years, Hair. I appreciate how steadfast you've been.

Love,
Your Owner

3 comments:

sandhya said...

You've inspired me to dig up my letter to my knees. literary safari

Third Street said...

I love your blog. It's really good. See you tonight. Louise

Dope on the Slope said...

A pleasure meeting you last night.

I'm adding you to my blogroll and will have a picture of you up in the "yearbook" from last night's Blogfest.

The podcast will come a little later.

BTW, what was the name of the handsome fella standing behind you, and is he a co-conspirator in your quest to color outside of the lines. I've got a picture of him as well.