What am I doing when I should be packing?
Stupid stuff to my hair.
I got the idea to get my hair permanently straightened when I saw a friend who had it done. Her hair is glossy and sleek and ooh-la-la and she doesn’t have to do anything to it. Ah-ha! I thought, there’s the thing for me–I’ll wake up on long camping excursions with nary a worry about my long, newly-glossified, sleeked hair.
So on Tuesday, I forked over an unholy amount of dough and spent several hours for the privilege of having my hair utterly overprocessed and burned. The damage wasn’t apparent the first day, although it smelled awful. I thought it must be the straightening product working its magical stench. Day two was torturous. (You can’t tuck your hair behind your ears, wash it, etc. so that the straightened locks will set up properly.)
I washed it this morning and my hair started breaking off in crazy little wiggles and half-strands.
Then I let it air-dry, and rather than sleek tresses, this:
Photobooth doesn’t do these wigged-out strands justice. Oh, and what you’re not smelling is the accompanying stench. Burned hair triggers the gag reflex like little else. You lucky devil, be glad you’re not me.
By 1:00pm, I couldn’t stand myself anymore and called my trusted salon here. Recovery:
This is the boy whose hair is longer than his mother’s.
You know the thing about hair–