My hair stylist is not chatty. When I first
started going to her, I felt like I should try to make chit chat b/c
that's what one does at the salon. But she'd answer any direct
questions and let it drop. Just like I would. Bless
her. So I can sit in silence and read or think or...eavesdrop.
The stylist next to us was chatting with her client:
"I remember the first time I shampooed a comb-over. I wasn't
really paying attention when he came in and I just started to shampoo
him. And it was like all his hair just washed off! There
was just this long swirl of hair in the sink! I nearly screamed,
I didn't know what happened for like a second. Like, I'd washed his
hair off!"
She went on, describing how she'd had to hold this long, thin hank of
hair to shampoo it. She mimed the odd little
washing-a-sock-in-the-sink motion it too. But I was just so taken
with that moment of My God What Have I Done? horror as the hair washed
off his scalp.
My dad sported that comb-over far longer than he should have.
He'd stick a base ball cap on when outside and sometimes the
combed-over part would go straight down, reaching his shoulder, like he
had considered becoming a hippie, but couldn't quite commit. How
does a barber keep from saying, "Look. Homer. You aren't fooling
anyone. Let me trim it off. Geez." Eventually he did,
bless him. There was a girl in one of my grad school classes that
had the I Do Not Care To Attract Men super short fauxhawky haircut and
a long, braided rattail. How I longed to creep up behind her and
snip it off. It would have been one of those random acts of
kindness she no doubt supported on her bumper.
Once upon a time, a blog was started at AOL Journals. The scales fell from the eyes of The Creator and it was moved to Wordpress. Then Journals tanked and all old posts were moved here for safekeeping.
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February
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- Hunkered down at Greenberg Pass
- Overheard at the Salon
- We're not here to make friends. We're here to WIN.
- In the "Lucky You're Cute" department...
- Apparently there CAN be too much They Might Be Gia...
- a matter of perspective
- bah, Humbug
- addendum
- I know it was you, Fredo.
- D-day approaches
- Thank heaven for little girls
- One down.
- Oh RIGHT, a birthday party tomorrow! With parents...
- The birthday boy
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