Ok.
I just have to know. When you have hair that you can wrap around yourself and go out in the world and appear clothed...just how do you function?
Let's skip the obvious toiletry issues.
Just how in the world do you
move around. People step on it. It drags in the mud. Dogs think it's a chew toy and tug on it. Bald people want to kill you.
And why go there, anyway? Do you lock yourself in a room, waiting...reading
Cosmo...miming to Rachel Hunter workout tapes...and...wait some more? Do you measure length every day? Every hour? Every minute?
Is it like when you try to lose weight and conveniently misplace the scale, like in the garbage bin? Do you remove all mirrors and rulers and make your husband take his measuring tape to the office?
Doesn't the anticipation just kill you? How long did it grow today? .05 cm. DAMN!
And what do you do if it DOESN'T grow like you thought it would. Do you tug on it to make it longer...until your scalp bleeds?
And if your hair is longer than your sister's...do you have to worry about her sneaking into your room while you sleep and hacking you down to Ellen Degeneres' style?
That's a heavy burden. Heavy indeed.
Oh...and I did promise Crystal Gayle, didn't I?
2 comments:
Crystal plays the guitar. Long hair can come in handy if you ever break a string during a performance.
I once knew a gorgeous Armenian gal with jet black hair down to her ankles. I like to cried when she chopped it off after her wedding. "That's girl's hair," she declared. GAH!
Post a Comment