The Peanut Chronicles

Saturday, January 14, 2006

My day was boring. I love the rain, I do, but it also makes it very hard to get out of bed. And there was a cute little blue eyes guy following me around all day needing attention.

So what did I get done? More thesis volunteer’s emails, got my toes all pedicured out with “giggling grape” nail polish. Hey I can’t see my nails or my toes but at least I know they look cute now!

Got the hair cut. I was wondering about these super dark roots and my question was answered when I say down in the chair.

Hairstyle lady: would you like me too touch up your roots?

Me: Funny, I had a question about that. I don’t dye my hair but I have these two-inch dark roots. Why? Is it because I am pregnant?

Hairstyle lady: yup happens to a lot of people. Would you like me to do a few foils to make it look more natural?

What the hell are foils??? I imagine myself sitting with some weird alien probe tin foil looking hair thing attached to my head for a few hours.

A memory stirs…

Ahh yes, I remember being 13 years old and having my dance coach telling me I had horrid hair and needed to do something about it before a major competition we had coming up (Statewide championships, which we won that year I might add). Horrid is the truth. I was in that lovely stage of puberty where my hair was long, frizzy and limp all at the same time. While the other girls had bouncing and glowing hair that swayed the right way and curled just perfectly, it didn’t matter what I did, mine was crap. I got picked on by the other girls too: “do you even try, ghost, to brush your hair?” for example.

Right before that competition, and on the day of my brother’s graduation from the 8th grade my mother did what she thought would make it all better: she paid for me to get a perm. FOR THREE HOURS, I sat in a chair while a nice lady doused my hair with chemicals and rollers and proceeded to turn my frazzled head into one of curling, bouncing beauty.

For once, I felt like my hair was beautiful and hence, I was beautiful as well. I went to that competition, won with my group… and a week later my hair was back to its usual frizzy limp self. Sigh…

The irony of it now is that I get most complemented on how thick and beautiful my reddish hair is. I have had women stop my in streets and ask me where I get my hair done because some people “would kill for that color.”

So yeah, the roots bug me a bit. I made an appointment to get my hair foiled next weekend. Not a lot, but just so when I pull it back it doesn’t look horrendous anymore. Whether or not I keep the appointment is still up in the air. I want to look nice for my baby shower.

OH MY GOD!!! I AM BEING GIRLIE!! or maybe I am just beginning to realize I am an adult now (at age 28...)

Paws is sitting in front of the computer and wheezing. Uh-oh. And Bear and I decided he is going on a diet in order to reduce his jabba the hut sized waistline.