Everyone has had issues with their hair. I, for one, have tried thing after thing to look my best and to stand out in the crowd. Hair is something that can make or break you, really – in lots of situations. You might not think it is true, but it most definitely is. Everyone has had issues with their hair, yes. And everyone has stories about crazy things that have happened to them.
I used to abide by that style where you have the short hair, and then curl up the bottom ends. It was popular for awhile, and I used to practice it to make sure that I had it right. Of course, since I was a perfectionist, I used to think that the better the up-curl, the better the hair in general. I realize NOW that that was probably a big mistake.
So, one day I’m in my college dorm room, and my boyfriend is coming to get me. I’ve got my curling iron out and I’m trying to make the curl at the bottom as symmetrical as possible. I’ve got it going all the way around my head, and I’m spraying it so that it all matches perfectly and its stiff and tacky and stuck just like it is supposed to be. It must have taken me an hour, even though my hair was only at my ears at that time.
Of course, what I realize now is that when you take a large curling iron to hair that is only at your ears, you end up with this funny little up curl thing that goes around your head above your ears, all the way around, and looks completely stupid. But that isn’t even the point, anyway.
My boyfriend comes to get me and takes me to his mother’s house. Of all places – it’s a holiday dinner at his mom’s house. I’ve got my big curl thing going on, and was actually quite proud of it.
Until his little sister starts to wheeze and cough and gag. She can hardly catch her breath and her mom’s rushing around trying to figure out what’s wrong. Then she asks me if I put any spray in my hair today, and I answer that of course I did, seeing as how the hair is stuck up in this perfect curl, all the way around. Then she tells me that the sister is deathly allergic to hair spray.
So, throwing my pride aside, I rush into the bathroom while her mom gives her some medicine. I throw my head under the faucet so that I can wash out the hair spray and his little sister won’t die in the middle of Thanksgiving. Of course, after I have done this, I realize that the little bathroom I am in doesn’t have a towel, a hair comb of any kind, or any type of product that I can put in my hair. My hair, by the way, is now sopping wet, stuck together in these weird clumps, and tangled to beat all.
So, I ran out of the bathroom and up to my boyfriend’s room. I found one of his atrocious baseball caps, stuck all of my hair on the top of my head, forced the cap on over it, and headed down to enjoy the dinner. I think that looked more stupid than the big curl, actually. But at least it didn’t kill anyone.