i used to have it.
now my kids do.
their hormones and age have not weighed in on the issue.
things always happen when i complain about them.
like when i was post partum...
my hair got so thick and unruly with curls, i kinda wished that i had a might less of it.
i never should have tempted the gods.
now i have hair days, i never saw coming.
sometimes when i awaken to face the day,
i find that i slept on slightly damp tresses.
this leaves me with the matted look of a persian wool coat.
at least my grandmother would have liked it.
she had the exact same hair as i do.
once extremely lush, and then as age took hold and estrogen losses made their
ways known with us, it became significantly less volumetric.
other days, with a sheen of unkemptness and a little need to wash it out...
i wind up with what i call:
nursing home hair.
the kind of look that is just akimbo enough to let any nursing home staff be brought to task
for not caring for me as a patient thoroughly enough.
the look that emily latella might have on any given day.
if she had been smacked upside her head with a two by four.
just dizzy looking, and glazed over with unmanageable hair sticking up on one side;
completely flat on the other.
then there is one of my most irksome looks.
it represents all things the matter with me.
its presentation is known as:
this has been referred to earlier this month in this blog.
it is where i have most likely been driving with all the windows on my car... OPEN.
no matter what the temp is outside, these hot flashes require a steady cold flow of air running over me.
the result is a corona of stuff emanating from my skull... all kinds of squiggly and crazy.
it is the unkempt daughter of albert einstein's do, sans the intellect.
and i seem to have this most often when i desire to look like i got something going on.
i never do though.
the final hair choice was one i never saw coming.
it was the same god-awful mess that Nick Nolte sported in his infamous mug shot photo.
you know the one. where crazy hair took a left and a few right turns to make a wrong.
the kind that has a flat back and sticks out every direction with inappropriate anger.
glazed drugged out eyes are a veritable companion component to this look.
i just do no drugs... so its appearance is even more frightening.
i awakened with this crap-do this morning.
i call it :
MUG SHOT hair.
thank heavens, morning will return and i will have at the flotilla of bad hair days... to
shampoo, rinse, repeat and creme rinse it all back into
a neat bun when all the members of this asylum have left to go to their appointed obligations.
normalcy has the possibility of returning to my roost.
my fingers are crossed for this result.