My mom read my blog the other day and told me that the one about dying my hair reminded her of the time she gave herself a perm right before her university graduation...
"The mortarboard wouldn't fit on my head! And then I had to walk down the aisle the next week with this giant head of hair!"
Which then reminded me of the time I gave myself a perm....but JUST MY BANGS. Why would I not do the rest of the poker-straight hair on my head? What was I thinking? I have no idea. All I know is that I spent the rest of the school year with my hair slicked back in a bowling ball ponytail with this patch of curls sproinging out of my forehead.
Oh! And then there was the time I got my first perm ever--on the same day as my mom & stepfather's wedding. I remember trying to ferret out a space in my hair where I could fit my giant disc-shaped earrings.
Anyhow, I don't know why I'm sharing all of these horrendous hair experiences. I guess I'm just trying to suss out why I, an intelligent, reasonable person, am prone to such disastrous lapses in judgement when it comes to my hair. Based on the information from my mother, I could say I'm genetically predisposed to it, but from all accounts I think that 'home perm immediately before two of life's most important occasions' was a one-off for her....whereas I am clearly a repeat offender.
I think I'll just call myself an eternal optimist. It sounds so much better than 'bear of little brain with a fundamental inability to learn.'
Well if it helps to add to the embarrassment factor, I apparently was wearing two pairs of boxer shorts all day!
ReplyDeleteYou can never be too safe, 'Gary'.
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