Sometimes I wake in the morning to the sound of '70s tunes blaring in my head. It's always a good song. I'm talkin' tunes I haven't thought of for years and years. Decades even. I can't explain how they pop into my consciousness with such crystal clarity. It's like I have my own cerebral surround sound. It happened again this morning.
Since I didn't have to be at fellowship till 6:00pm I waited till 5:00pm to wash my hair and clean up. That means I was ratty all day. I visited family in San Diego Saturday so I felt ratty on the inside too. It always takes me several days to recover from a family visit. It's like the very environment sucks out all my electrolytes. I'm a fish flapping around on dry sand until I can reach my pond again.
After much deliberation, I decided to wear my hair in a French twist. I did a scalp wash only, then a fast bath, and amazingly I didn't get my length wet at all. That's four stars please. I put a drop of jojoba on the ends and twisted it up. I added another drop and a half (yes I can pour a half drop out of my bottle!) to smooth the crazy hairs and shine the top and sides. I rushed, so after three tries one side was perfection and the other side, the side that twists under, was a rough but it had to do. I braided it yesterday so it had nice waves today and when I do a scalp wash then the top is fluffy and clean and it looks pretty good. It did tonight anyway.
I may have turned my sister into a long hair devotee. Back in the day, she always had hair a little longer than I. She has lovely thick, auburn tresses while I inherited genes for plain brown hair and the early grey. She's 41 and has had a grand total of, hmmm, six grey hairs. Last time we talked she was adamant that she'd just keep it shoulder length as she got older. "Pffft!" I said. Let it grow out. Older women can have long hair and be pretty; look at me. Be like me! (Is my modesty showing?) She replied, as if I were from another planet, "Older? I'm not getting older." I said, "Pffft!" again, but this time silently.
