For some reason poorly known, women tend to celebrate events with a visit to ones’ hair salon of preference. True to this instinctual pull, I decided to get a Hair Re-do. I have always wanted tri-colored hair. You know, one shade of dark, one shade of red, one shade of gold. But for some reason I just never got brave enough to do it.
Last week, K, a friend from work, sauntered in with My Hair. I luuuuuuvvvved it. Wanted it. Heck, I needed that hair, NOW. After all, I am going to get a hole blown through my upper airway. This was like a Last Meal to a condemned prisoner. After squealing a bit, I un-squirreled myself enough to find out that her daughter-in-law (or DIL as she will be called) did it. So yesterday I drove an hour to Get My Hair Done.
Who knew that tri-colored hair was such a long, LONG process? I was squirming in my seat after 30 minutes. Every now and then I would look at the blurry silver image in the mirror. My hair, with sections stuck straight up in aluminum foil, looked like it had been through a wild night of sex with a UFO. I kept checking the skies. Any lightning and I was a goner for sure. After what seemed like eons of waiting, we went to sponge me off. After sitting back down, two pairs of eyes stared intently at my hair.
No not me. I stupidly forgot to take a picture of my alumination. (oasissupply.com)
K: Well, what do you think?
DIL: I’m not sure. I don’t think it popped enough. What do you think Lori?
ME: (thinking: I sound like corn kernels). Ahh, well, I really can’t see much. You all can see it, if it isn’t enough what should we do?
DIL: I think we need to re-do it.
ME: (thinking: YIKES, more sitting.) AH, ok…..
More wrapping and gluing. I was getting sleepy, so I “did my time” with my head against the wall. Roused up with a huge twitch every time my body stared to fall over. Did this several times before the blasted bell rang off.
Again the two pairs of eyes, only now they looked a little anxious.
Me: Did I pop?
K: Yup, you popped.
I looked at my wet hair. How can you tell? I couldn’t see much, but I was fuzzy with sleepiness. Now to the other part of my re-do: frizz removal. This extremely torturous treatment removes frizz for up to 6 months. First a warm goo that smelled like coconut mango was carefully applied to each layer, then I was capped and allowed to wait some more. When the bell sounded, I thought I was finally done. Nope. Each layer was melted with a blow torch. Or at least that’s what it felt like. A hot flat-iron is applied to layers of hair to “seal it in”. Finally I was trimmed and allowed to stand. I put on my glasses and looked at my hair.
It was flat as a pancake. Shocking.
An actual picture of me before and after. Sexy, eh?
It is usually a huge fluffy curly mess. This flatness made me feel like I was wearing a wig again during chemo. I felt bald. I looked bald. I decided no more griping about my curly hair, it made my tiny head look normal sized. As to the color, it was dark. But interesting. And definitely tri-colored. I think I will grow into a liking for it.
Then I was told the rules. No touching the hair. No putting it behind my ears. No clips or pins. No washing. Nothing for 72 hours.
DIL: It will put a permanent kink in your hair if you put anything in it or do anything at all except hang from your head.
Me: (thinking: OMG, I wont be able to follow that. I know I will twirl it or stick it behind my glasses and then what? I will have stick out hair. Yes I guarantee I will do something.)
But I did well all day. Tried to be mindful of what I was doing (and K’s batting my hand didn’t hurt either). That night at bedtime I was looking at my hair in the mirror and swishing it from side to side. It swished with sass. I was a sassy broad now. Then I went into bed and started to put on my CPAP mask……oh NO! My CPAP mask! It will kink my hair all over! I imagined having to wear hair with CPAP straps kinked into it for the next 6 months. I thought I was going to cry. Nothing ever works out for me. I thought about not wearing it, but that meant no sleep. So I tried to gently apply the straps, and just prayed it wouldn’t be a disaster.
The next morning, I ran to the mirror. There is was, a kink. A little L shape in my hair that made it wave out about 3 inches from the end. But…it was kinda cool looking. Well thank you CPAP!
All day today I tried not to touch it or twirl it or put it behind my ears. By the end of the day I was nutty. Who knew I did so much to it all day? And I had to develop an irritating way to get it out of my eyes by shaking it. Swish-swish was no longer as sassy after doing it 1000 times. I was bug nuts. And I got it wet in the shower. Thought of just ending my torture right then and there and wash the darn thing. But the torture treatment was expensive. So I talked myself down from keratin suicide and decided to go to bed.
My son’s reaction to my hair has been an eye opener. Kids’ just don’t see their parents as people.
His first response was: Mom, has your hair always been like that?
His response today was: Mom your hair is RED? Did you know it was RED?
Sometimes I just can’t imagine that he came from my ovaries. Laugh. Out. Loud.