Hair peace
Nothing exciting to report today, but sometimes that's a good thing. It's officially fall, woo hoo, but it's sunny and warm here and I am not complaining.
Sahara's trying on the Shannon hair look for a while, and on hot days, I'm just a little envious. I have a thick mop of hair and it's often hot, in my eyes, and hugely annoying. But three times, I contemplated shaving my head, really.
- In college, I went from preppy sorority twit to punker in two days. At one point, I chopped off all my hair, bleached it white, and dyed it bright blue. My head was glowing blue and I thought that would be an extremely cool look. Then I remembered I had to go home to my parents in a few weeks.
- I was maid of honor in a wedding, and went out to get my now-sensible brown bob a little body-wave. Well, the beautidiot left it on too long, and my hair turned into a burned black poodle with matted knots that rode around the top of my head and barked. Then my hair started falling out in handfuls. For the wedding, I took what I had left, poured on an entire bottle of French conditioner, and tried to smile. The bride kept asking "is something burning?"
- In a fit of cheap stupidity, I went to an 80 year old barber and asked for a boy cut. I'll say no more about that one.
Now, I will say two serious things. Sahara is cool as all get out for embracing her own skull. Brava, young lady! And second, I'm inviting those of you who have the hair and the interest to check out Locks of Love and think about donating a ponytail or two so that other kids with cancer can get the wigs they want and need.