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Sep. 25th, 2003 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyThis morning I woke up with a problem I haven't faced in years, something I'd almost forgotten about. The dreaded Morning-After-the-Haircut Hair. I looked like a dark brown dandelion.
My hair and I've had a...well, a strained relationship over the past few years. There's been neglect and pain. Well, here. Look at the timeline.
May '99: Lose a chunk of hair (along with eyebrows, eyelashes and some skin) in what I'll call the "Oh, sure I know how to light a gigantic industrial gas stoWOOSH CRACKLECRACKLE" incident. I have the rest of my hair cut really really short to match the charred stubble in front. I look like a cueball that's been rolled across a barbershop floor.
'99-this year: Horrified by how I look when nearly hairless, I let my hair grow. And grow and grow and grow. And otherwise, apart from shampoo and brushing it, I pretty much ignore it.
This year-yesterday: Things start to go sour. Partly it's finding clots of hair in the shower drain that look, and are the size of, mice. Partly it was the sharp pain of having the dog step on my hair in the middle of the night. But the morning I woke up, tried to roll over, and almost gave myself whiplash because my elbow was on my hair? Last straw.
So now my ponytail's sitting in the front pocket of my backpack, which makes me feel a little like that shaman in the Silko book whose home is full of every hair and nail clipping he ever shed. (Eduardo, my stylist*, gave it to me after we were done and suggested I donate it. Does he know where? No, he does not. Anyone out there know?) I feel about a pound lighter. And I'm told that it'll take a few days for my hair follicle pores to get used to the new (lack of) weight, so how I'll look by the weekend is anyone's guess.
Especially considering that tonight's a fire spinning night. This whole cycle might start all over again.
*The difference between a barber and a stylist is that a stylist costs more and creates a look for your hair that is a)very good and b)impossible to recreate the next day after you've slept on it.
My hair and I've had a...well, a strained relationship over the past few years. There's been neglect and pain. Well, here. Look at the timeline.
May '99: Lose a chunk of hair (along with eyebrows, eyelashes and some skin) in what I'll call the "Oh, sure I know how to light a gigantic industrial gas stoWOOSH CRACKLECRACKLE" incident. I have the rest of my hair cut really really short to match the charred stubble in front. I look like a cueball that's been rolled across a barbershop floor.
'99-this year: Horrified by how I look when nearly hairless, I let my hair grow. And grow and grow and grow. And otherwise, apart from shampoo and brushing it, I pretty much ignore it.
This year-yesterday: Things start to go sour. Partly it's finding clots of hair in the shower drain that look, and are the size of, mice. Partly it was the sharp pain of having the dog step on my hair in the middle of the night. But the morning I woke up, tried to roll over, and almost gave myself whiplash because my elbow was on my hair? Last straw.
So now my ponytail's sitting in the front pocket of my backpack, which makes me feel a little like that shaman in the Silko book whose home is full of every hair and nail clipping he ever shed. (Eduardo, my stylist*, gave it to me after we were done and suggested I donate it. Does he know where? No, he does not. Anyone out there know?) I feel about a pound lighter. And I'm told that it'll take a few days for my hair follicle pores to get used to the new (lack of) weight, so how I'll look by the weekend is anyone's guess.
Especially considering that tonight's a fire spinning night. This whole cycle might start all over again.
*The difference between a barber and a stylist is that a stylist costs more and creates a look for your hair that is a)very good and b)impossible to recreate the next day after you've slept on it.
