housebound (lyn)

I can no longer stand my out-of-control-impossible-to-manage-hair.  This morning I go to my hairdresser’s and have the Coppola Keratin Treatment.  I walk out of the salon two hours later with stick-straight-stringy-hair.  I cannot wash it for three days.  Once I do, my hair will look shiny and straight and require little maintenance.  I know this because I’ve had this process done six times before, beginning in September 2007. I do it about twice a year now; the results are great.   But for the three days after, I look truly grotesque.

I get home and see a neighbor in my lobby; I don’t know her name, only her face.  “Wow.  I love your hair.  You look so much younger,” she says.  I look like I am in costume for Halloween as a leftover hippy from the 60’s.  Trust me, I don’t look younger. 

I pass a mirror in my apartment and I'm startled.  I call Gail and cancel our dinner/screening plans for tonight.   I think of lying and saying I don’t feel well, because saying that I am too hideous to go out seems like such a lame excuse.  But Gail understands when I tell her the truth.  We re-schedule our plans.

Then Penny calls and wants to go for a walk.  I invite her over instead.  It’s okay for my friends to see me in my own home.  I make some tea and we catch up on life.

After Penny leaves, I eat the remaining half of a chicken potpie with a side of spinach. Not exactly the grilled calamari and exotic fish that I could have been having with Gail at a top NYC Greek restaurant (Milos Estiatorio).  But even great food can’t compensate for short-term ugliness.  On the bright side, I bet I saved a ton of points.