...by the way, I love you more.
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Product
What do you do when you find a split-end? No, not on your head- um, on your arm. I found one. Sunday. While I was sitting in Sunday School, listening to the Gospel Doctrine teacher who was teaching about everything but arm hair split ends. And you know what they say about when you find one split end- there are many more you can't see (kinda like cockroaches and termites).
I just don't know what more I can do for my arm hair- not arm pit hair- just arm hair, like on the forearm. I give it the best moisturizing shampoos. The best conditioners. The best leave-in conditioners. I use the lowest heat possible on my hair dryer. The lowest heat on my flat iron (and it is a little time-consuming to straighten all that arm hair). And the best hairspray money can buy. Obviously, it needs something else.
So while I was at Wal-Mart yesterday I searched high and low for arm hair products. There were none to be found. Anywhere. In that huge store. And Sally Beauty Supply was next door. Didn't even go in there. I was feeling too defeated.
You know what I think the greatest problem facing us in today's society? No product (sorry beauty school girls, but I always think it sounds funny when people call hairspray "product". cracks me up) specifically for the arm hair. I think we are a prejudiced society. You only get product if you are on the head. Isn't that sending the wrong message? Isn't every hair just as important as hair-on-the-head? I don't know what we can do about this. There is no legislation in place. Who wants to lobby for arm hair? What happens if we do slip into a depression? No one's going to want to focus on the arm hair. And then where will we be?
I have a sister who is a beautician. My next move is to schedule a trim. I know she can clean up my unsightly arm hair. Anyway, I can't even bear to give it another thought. I just have to move on. So when you see me next, please don't judge me. Just know that when you find your first split-end (on the arm) I will (hopefully) have found a solution- or maybe at least some product. Come see me. I'll also have chocolate.
Seriously, though!?! A split end on my arm hair?
I just don't know what more I can do for my arm hair- not arm pit hair- just arm hair, like on the forearm. I give it the best moisturizing shampoos. The best conditioners. The best leave-in conditioners. I use the lowest heat possible on my hair dryer. The lowest heat on my flat iron (and it is a little time-consuming to straighten all that arm hair). And the best hairspray money can buy. Obviously, it needs something else.
So while I was at Wal-Mart yesterday I searched high and low for arm hair products. There were none to be found. Anywhere. In that huge store. And Sally Beauty Supply was next door. Didn't even go in there. I was feeling too defeated.
You know what I think the greatest problem facing us in today's society? No product (sorry beauty school girls, but I always think it sounds funny when people call hairspray "product". cracks me up) specifically for the arm hair. I think we are a prejudiced society. You only get product if you are on the head. Isn't that sending the wrong message? Isn't every hair just as important as hair-on-the-head? I don't know what we can do about this. There is no legislation in place. Who wants to lobby for arm hair? What happens if we do slip into a depression? No one's going to want to focus on the arm hair. And then where will we be?
I have a sister who is a beautician. My next move is to schedule a trim. I know she can clean up my unsightly arm hair. Anyway, I can't even bear to give it another thought. I just have to move on. So when you see me next, please don't judge me. Just know that when you find your first split-end (on the arm) I will (hopefully) have found a solution- or maybe at least some product. Come see me. I'll also have chocolate.
Seriously, though!?! A split end on my arm hair?
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Life B.S. and A.S.
Everyone should have satin pillowcases. Probably everyone does. I just bought some. Finally. After threatening to do so for a LONG time. I got them on clearance at Target- $2.48 for two. I know! Couldn't pass it up. Now when I decide to leave my hair curly for a day, I can wear it curly the next day again without washing it (TMI? sorry, but there are times I go, GASP, a day without washing my hair- but only if it was straight the day before. Disgusting, I know. Necessary, yes) (But I do shower EVERY day. K?)
Life B.S. (before satin) was a wash-the-hair-every-day affair if I chose to stay curly. Now, I can go TWO WHOLE DAYS IN A ROW with curly hair. So liberating. The satin makes it possible for my curls to still look great- not crunched and smooshed and all bedhead looking. I am loving life A.S.
A whole new world is open to me.
And now I think I gotta get some satin sheets.
Life B.S. (before satin) was a wash-the-hair-every-day affair if I chose to stay curly. Now, I can go TWO WHOLE DAYS IN A ROW with curly hair. So liberating. The satin makes it possible for my curls to still look great- not crunched and smooshed and all bedhead looking. I am loving life A.S.
A whole new world is open to me.
And now I think I gotta get some satin sheets.
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Da Feet
The Sabbath Day dawned glorious. Little son crawled into bed with me upon hearing the garage door shutting, signifying that the husband had left for early morning meetings, and knowing that the spot to my left had been vacated. Little son was confident he could occupy that space and excel at launching leg and limb into my side and face. He did a grand job. I was glad to have him as a barnacle for the last 30 minutes of my heretofore peaceful slumber.
As I readied myself and the children for church, I was ecstatic to find that my hair was behaving wonderfully and even found myself gazing blissfully into the looking glass, realizing that this could be that often elusive "good hair day." The planets had aligned. It was a good hair day. I was even able to tease my bangs into submission, sweeping them to the side and securing them with just the perfect amount of hairspray- ensuring that they would stay put and leave my eyes alone on this day- something that HARDLY EVER HAPPENS. What more can one ask for?
I skipped triumphantly down the stairs and herded the children into their proper positions in the car, escorted the canine to her kennel and pulled out of the driveway- ready for spiritual feasting.
We arrived at church on time- even early- and took our places, listening to the prelude music and greeting our fellow ward members. Still beaming from the pride I felt in my most cooperative tresses, I scooped little son up onto my lap as the services began. No sooner had I done this then little son, as if in slow motion, raised his arm and balled his little fist, directing it towards my bangs. His fist of doom performed a noogie right there on my perfectly coiffed bangs, separating the web of hairspray so delicately applied not even an hour before. Noooooooooooooooooo! (uttered in slow motion) Oh, the horror! Immediately those bangs sagged into my eyes. And for the rest of the church services I was compelled to move them to the side, over and over, using my hand or, alternately, the side head shake that would perform the task when my hands were occupied with essential tasks such as folding paper fans out of the program or peeling the paper from the tips of well-used crayons.
I resigned myself to a bang-in-the-eye meeting and continued listening to the speaker. Soon little son tired of being perched on my lap and slid down- and in the process, the Velcro (did you know Velcro must be captitalized? It must, according to the spell checker.) on the pocket of his pants caught on my skirt and pulled a little village of threads loose, thus blurring the floral arrangement pattern as multiple threads slid out of place and hung suspended from their original position in the weave of my raiment. Oh, how I don't love it when that happens.
Soon I was able to usher the children to Primary and nursery classes and the rest of the meetings proceeded without incident.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we should all wear sweats and baseball caps to church meetings in order to protect ourselves from our children. Will someone second this motion?
In other news: I am feeling the beginnings of a newly ingrown toenail- the big toe on my left foot. The toe just to the right of the toe that had issues last month. So, you know the drill, I need proper sympathy and attention for help and healing of this malady.
As I readied myself and the children for church, I was ecstatic to find that my hair was behaving wonderfully and even found myself gazing blissfully into the looking glass, realizing that this could be that often elusive "good hair day." The planets had aligned. It was a good hair day. I was even able to tease my bangs into submission, sweeping them to the side and securing them with just the perfect amount of hairspray- ensuring that they would stay put and leave my eyes alone on this day- something that HARDLY EVER HAPPENS. What more can one ask for?
I skipped triumphantly down the stairs and herded the children into their proper positions in the car, escorted the canine to her kennel and pulled out of the driveway- ready for spiritual feasting.
We arrived at church on time- even early- and took our places, listening to the prelude music and greeting our fellow ward members. Still beaming from the pride I felt in my most cooperative tresses, I scooped little son up onto my lap as the services began. No sooner had I done this then little son, as if in slow motion, raised his arm and balled his little fist, directing it towards my bangs. His fist of doom performed a noogie right there on my perfectly coiffed bangs, separating the web of hairspray so delicately applied not even an hour before. Noooooooooooooooooo! (uttered in slow motion) Oh, the horror! Immediately those bangs sagged into my eyes. And for the rest of the church services I was compelled to move them to the side, over and over, using my hand or, alternately, the side head shake that would perform the task when my hands were occupied with essential tasks such as folding paper fans out of the program or peeling the paper from the tips of well-used crayons.
I resigned myself to a bang-in-the-eye meeting and continued listening to the speaker. Soon little son tired of being perched on my lap and slid down- and in the process, the Velcro (did you know Velcro must be captitalized? It must, according to the spell checker.) on the pocket of his pants caught on my skirt and pulled a little village of threads loose, thus blurring the floral arrangement pattern as multiple threads slid out of place and hung suspended from their original position in the weave of my raiment. Oh, how I don't love it when that happens.
Soon I was able to usher the children to Primary and nursery classes and the rest of the meetings proceeded without incident.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we should all wear sweats and baseball caps to church meetings in order to protect ourselves from our children. Will someone second this motion?
In other news: I am feeling the beginnings of a newly ingrown toenail- the big toe on my left foot. The toe just to the right of the toe that had issues last month. So, you know the drill, I need proper sympathy and attention for help and healing of this malady.
My wish for you this day is perfectly formed and hairsprayed bangs (if you have any), skirts without blemish and toes with nails that know where they may grow and stay away from where they may not.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Growing
I am ashamed and embarrassed to admit it. We have always had a rocky relationship. I think you just learn how to put a smile on your face and go on like things are all normal and that you are perfectly happy. But really, it has been one of the greatest trials of my life. I think the only time that things were really great between us was in the 90’s. Other than that, I can probably count on one hand the days that I have been satisfied with our relationship. But it takes a crisis to realize how much something means to you.
I have always known that my hair didn’t really like me. But, honestly, who wants to accept that? Who?
I have crazy naturally curly, way-too-thick hair that has a mind of its own. You can’t make it do something it doesn’t want to do. So, really, the only time that I could just go with it was in the 90’s when big, curly hair was in. I just learned to put my desires aside and go with it. You just have to learn to be unselfish. And I truly was happy. And I thought that was what I wanted. Until straight hair became the order of the day.
My journey of appreciation climaxed last summer when I purchased a new flat iron. I was ready to get better results and took it into my own hands. I had been RELIGIOUSLY straightening my hair for the past 6 or more years. Subconsciously thinking that straightening out those curls would straighten the problems between us. So, when I got that new red and silver flat iron- from Sally's- with more than 10 heat settings, I was pumped.
Immediately I cranked it to the hottest setting and let that baby get HOT. I ritualistically divided my hair, affixing the appropriate clips to hold the upper layers in place so I could work on the under layers. And so I began to flatten out those curls. Strip by strip. I watched as this magic iron slid through my tresses, steaming as it went. Then I began to smell the scent of very hot, not quite burning, hair. But I was not alarmed because my hair was straightening beautifully. In under 15 minutes, my hair was completely sleekly straight. It was a monumental moment. The best results I had ever achieved on my mop. And, I knew I had hit gold.
The next day, after washing my hair, I was ready to repeat the process. I began to blow dry my hair and immediately knew something was not right. Instead of frizzing out and going out of control, my hair was blow drying straight. What? One would think that I would be ecstatic. Not so much. It was in that moment, a moment of sheer terror, I realized what I had done. That beautiful new red and silver flat iron had melted the curl right out of my hair. I was mortified. What had I done?
Do you know what this meant? It meant that I no longer had the option of letting my hair go curly when I didn’t have time to straighten it, because the way it dried was so unattractive. I couldn’t just dry and go like I could with my curls. I am here to tell you that it truly is in a crisis that we realize how important some things are to us.
So, here we are, a year later. I have learned a few things 1) you cannot turn your 10 heat setting flat iron to the hottest setting, 2) curls can melt out of hair, 3) no matter how much I complained about it before, I really did appreciate my hair all along, and 4) I would be sad to lose it.
My curl is finally growing back in. It is funny to see my hair with the curl at the root and then straight about two inches after that, all the way to the end. But I am embracing it- like The Prodigal Son returning from a wayward life.
In the end, I know I was the selfish one in this relationship. My hair gives and gives. I take and take- expect and expect. (Although I do give it good conditioner.) I am the master, it is the servant. Still, I don’t love that it usually looks its best right at the end of the day- just as I am brushing my teeth and getting in to bed. What is up with that?
I think our relationship is on the mend.
P.S. Go USA!!!
I have always known that my hair didn’t really like me. But, honestly, who wants to accept that? Who?
I have crazy naturally curly, way-too-thick hair that has a mind of its own. You can’t make it do something it doesn’t want to do. So, really, the only time that I could just go with it was in the 90’s when big, curly hair was in. I just learned to put my desires aside and go with it. You just have to learn to be unselfish. And I truly was happy. And I thought that was what I wanted. Until straight hair became the order of the day.
My journey of appreciation climaxed last summer when I purchased a new flat iron. I was ready to get better results and took it into my own hands. I had been RELIGIOUSLY straightening my hair for the past 6 or more years. Subconsciously thinking that straightening out those curls would straighten the problems between us. So, when I got that new red and silver flat iron- from Sally's- with more than 10 heat settings, I was pumped.
Immediately I cranked it to the hottest setting and let that baby get HOT. I ritualistically divided my hair, affixing the appropriate clips to hold the upper layers in place so I could work on the under layers. And so I began to flatten out those curls. Strip by strip. I watched as this magic iron slid through my tresses, steaming as it went. Then I began to smell the scent of very hot, not quite burning, hair. But I was not alarmed because my hair was straightening beautifully. In under 15 minutes, my hair was completely sleekly straight. It was a monumental moment. The best results I had ever achieved on my mop. And, I knew I had hit gold.
The next day, after washing my hair, I was ready to repeat the process. I began to blow dry my hair and immediately knew something was not right. Instead of frizzing out and going out of control, my hair was blow drying straight. What? One would think that I would be ecstatic. Not so much. It was in that moment, a moment of sheer terror, I realized what I had done. That beautiful new red and silver flat iron had melted the curl right out of my hair. I was mortified. What had I done?
Do you know what this meant? It meant that I no longer had the option of letting my hair go curly when I didn’t have time to straighten it, because the way it dried was so unattractive. I couldn’t just dry and go like I could with my curls. I am here to tell you that it truly is in a crisis that we realize how important some things are to us.
So, here we are, a year later. I have learned a few things 1) you cannot turn your 10 heat setting flat iron to the hottest setting, 2) curls can melt out of hair, 3) no matter how much I complained about it before, I really did appreciate my hair all along, and 4) I would be sad to lose it.
My curl is finally growing back in. It is funny to see my hair with the curl at the root and then straight about two inches after that, all the way to the end. But I am embracing it- like The Prodigal Son returning from a wayward life.
In the end, I know I was the selfish one in this relationship. My hair gives and gives. I take and take- expect and expect. (Although I do give it good conditioner.) I am the master, it is the servant. Still, I don’t love that it usually looks its best right at the end of the day- just as I am brushing my teeth and getting in to bed. What is up with that?
I think our relationship is on the mend.
P.S. Go USA!!!
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