June 13, 2007
Curly crowning glory?
I am sporting a new hairstyle. I’d been wanting to get a haircut since I got here. My hair had grown up to a few inches above my waist and I was apprehensive that if allowed to grow for a few more weeks people would start suspecting I’m a affiliated with some kind of cult. So I went to get a haircut (Good grief! That was two months’ worth of apartment rent in the Philippines!) and pushed beyond my parameters. I went to get a perm as well. I have decided to embrace the natural, and by that I meant my annoying, uneven wavy hair which has been declared passé since the start of the hair-straightening mania. Re’Sean said I look different, “in a good way.” The husband said he didn’t recognize me at first when he went to pick me up and a friend after our trip to the hair cuttery. “It’s nice. I like it!” said he. Insert funny smile. I asked him the same question ten more times after that. He maintains it is nice. I couldn’t even trick him into comparing the before and after hairstyles.
This is probably weird to most, but I have very little patience sitting in beauty salons. It takes forever! I’m always tempted to kick the hairdresser whenever he/she starts pulling on the small hairs near my nape. I get sleepy. Going to a hairdresser is like seeing a shrink. You sit there and almost as soon as they start snipping at your hair, they start asking you about your life. It just amazes me how we feel at ease telling the hairdresser bits and pieces of who we are. The gentleman seated behind me was getting a haircut to celebrate his 7th wedding anniversary with the wife over dinner. Then proceeds to share how great the marriage has been going. The woman to my left was extolling motherhood, then continued to yammer about the challenges and pains of having a newborn. My hairdresser and I happened to be both Asians. “Are you from Thailand?” she asked.
