Pretty Hair

15 days until we skip town and I fear the mounting tension/anticipation is inducing spontaneous crabbiness.  I just feel so...utterly spent as of late.  Run down.  I haven't done my hair in ages.  But really, why would I bother with this outrageous humidity?  My daily regimen is shamefully as follows: get out of shower, blow dry bangs, pull wet hair into low bun and head to work.  (I've omitted several key steps here, but you get the gist.) 

This routine has catapulted me into the dumpiest of ruts.  (Indeed, what is worse than taking one's hair down at 9pm and realizing it's still damp from the morning?  It's simply not dignified.)

Needless to say, emotions have been running high and this morning I decided it was time to show myself a little kindness.  Not only did I blow dry my hair but I straightened it as well, even taking the time to apply some Aveda Self Control goo.  As I peered in the mirror, a little voice in my head began a running commentary: "Did your hair today, huh?  Isn't it a bit humid outside to expect your hair to stay pin straight?" 

Against the odds, I would have nice hair today.  I was in dire need of a morale boost and superficial though it may sound, this might be just the lift I needed.  I walked to the subway.

Now, I've roughly spent the past decade riding the subway, and during this time have entertained a casual fear that one of my fellow riders will eventually spill something on me.  I say casual because the only time I ever experience this fear is when I'm:

1.) wearing white (which is practically never)

or

2.) find myself sitting next to someone who is either on the phone, fiddling with a newspaper, doing suduko, etc, and proceeds to precariously perch a hot tea or a melty, drippy iced coffee onto the seat betwixt us. 

If I may provide a note to the wise:  Subway trains lurch, people.  Hold onto your beverages!

I wonder about these people, as I always wonder about folks who block the subway doors/don't move all the way into the train/lean against the pole, preventing everyone in their general area from also holding onto said pole...the list is endless, really. 

After I have made certain that they are neither drunk nor clinically insane, I'm afraid I judge them.  I mean, are they really that:

terribly busy,

consumed by more important issues,

egomaniacal, horrendous S.O.B.'s,

that they have totally lost the Pre-K concept of sharing? 

But I digress.  All I really wanted to tell you was that while sitting on the subway this morning, the woman next to me, the one who had unabashedly unfurled her inky newspaper into my personal space, squeezed her water bottle too vigorously and squirted me all over with cold water.  It got on my shirt, my skirt; ordinarily I might have welcomed a splash of cold H2O, what with the soaring temperatures and all, but...

The water had hit my hair.  Oh dear Lord, not the hair!  The very same hair I'd lovingly straighted not twenty minutes prior, throwing caution to the nasty humidity.  I could already feel it starting to get wavy.

"I'm sorry!!  Oh, I'm SOOOO sorry!" she gushed, and I shrugged and told her it was "fine, fine, it's ok, really!"  (I'm elated you just did what you did, honestly!!  THANK you, actually...!!!)

But we both know what I was thinking.  I was thinking: lady, you don't even know the half of it.

I surreptitiously wiped beads of water off my arms, not wanting to cause her any further guilt.  Gingerly I brushed off the front of my shirt and then lovingly patted my semi damp hair.  It was just some harmless water, but enough to transform locks that had moments before been the very picture of obedience into hair that was reckless and defiantly flipping out and...WAVY. 

Ah, irony.  Seriously.

I didn't even bat an eyelid later at lunch when a bird pooped on my head.  At least, I'm assuming it was a bird, and I'm assuming it was poop, since when I looked up the only thing above me was a tree, and out of the tree came a menacing little chirp chirp chirp.  No, it couldn't be?  I put a hand to my head and it came back wet.  Clear, but most definitely moist.  Poop or no Poop, I decided to take it as a good luck sign.  What other choice did I have?

In closing, if I don't manage to have pretty hair tomorrow, now you'll know why.  xoxo

Comments

[Amy]

Your day sounds like just the type of day that would make you want to pack your bags and move north. tee hee hee...

[Sister]

Exactly how much water squirted onto you? Did she throw a bucket in your face or something?

[The Odd Broad]

Well, there were water spots all down the front of my shirt, (thank God it was only water), literally BEADS of WATER covering my arms... It had gotten on her, too. But the hair, she got me right where it wants to flip out anyway. Just enough water to turn it from going under to going...FLIP!

It was the weirdest thing.

And then she unfurled her stupid newspaper back into my face.

[Sister]

Very odd.