There Are Times I Just Don’t Listen To Myself!

Nat and I are glad to see the end of this past week. For close to a year now, a family matter loomed overhead and finally came out this past Wednesday and lasted for a couple of days. Now that it’s resolved, or so we hope, we’ll get on with our lives and get caught up on lost sleep. Thankfully the weekend was spent in relative peace. Nat had another golf tournament on Saturday afternoon (a change from his usual morning tournaments) and wasn’t home until close to 8:00 pm. I whiled away the hours getting caught up on podcasts, a little book work and a lot of “me” time on the computer. A bit of the “me” time was spent researching the iPad for when that big day comes and I’ll buy one. As we’re taking some much needed time away from home (going to Corning, New York in September) Nat said we could stop by the Apple Store at the Walden Galleria Mall and buy the newest one there. A little cheaper than Canadian prices and I’ll save the HST. I’m so excited and can hardly wait for that day to arrive. The money I’ve earned is sitting in our savings account gathering what interest it can. August won’t be able to fly by fast enough!!

Along a whole other note – for the longest time I’ve been struggling with my hair. Of course, what woman doesn’t. There’s always something about that long or short stringy stuff that sits atop our skulls that drive us to distraction, frustration and many a bad morning. Once in awhile we get lucky and have a “good hair day”, but with me, those days are few and far between. With my anti-rejection medications, my hair has taken a turn for the worse, and along with getting old is now beginning to thin. I had bad hair days growing up and especially during my teen years, but God, I never thought they would get worse. As a teenager I’d see women of mature years walking about with their neatly coiffed hairstyles and often wondered how they maintained them, not realizing it took a regular trip to their hair salon for a wash ‘n cut, stylings, perms, body perms, touch-ups and even a colour job now and then. Once I was out in the working field I tried getting perms for body and flexibility, and must admit, that one or two weren’t bad. Naturally, it depended on the hair salon and the talents of the stylist standing behind your head! However, for a majority of those perms or body perms, I was never happy with the results. The stylist didn’t fully understand what I wanted, they’d do a tight perm – curls galore wherein I looked like Nancy from the Sluggo or Fritzi Fritz cartoons – or a body perm that really never took, and drooped afterwards in an uncontrollable state. Frustrated after each try I’d tell myself never again. I was successful for most of my mature adult years and managed to have more good hair days than bad hair days without getting near a hair stylist holding a bottle of perm solution – an odour you know instantly whenever you step inside a hair salon.

Most bad memories in life linger longer than the good, at least in my life. The old heart, however, continues to keep the faith and is still as trusting as ever. So with that in mind, I booked an appointment for a body perm – and that day arrived today. When booking this appointment, all of those bad hair days came flooding back, but I told myself this was a new hair salon, new stylist and times have changed. I’ve been going to this new gal since we first moved here and for her younger years, she’s pretty good in what she does. I’ve watched as she’s finished styling other clients and I’ve seen some nice hair dos – young and old. She’s friendly, upbeat, fun and we seemed to hit it off from day one. When I booked my appointment five weeks ago, she re-assured me that a lot of her “older” customers get body perms and they work well for them. They’re able to maintain their hairdos in relative ease without any fuss or muss. She’s very mindful of my wishes, thinning hair and bonus – she’s inexpensive compared to St. Catharines. She had my full confidence.

The deed was done by 10:45 am. The results at first weren’t bad. She touched up my hair with a curling iron, gave it some style and a whopping burst of hairspray, and I was good to go. Once I arrived home, as I usually do, I run to the bathroom mirror, comb out what was just done and instantly restyle my hair the way I’d like it to look. This has been my usual practice from day one, except for my wedding, where my long time hair dresser did a fabulous job. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back – no control, the little bald spots of thinning hair were peeking through with abundance and you could see exactly where each and every hair roller had been!! Nat, being the gentleman that he is, saw my face and said, “But it looks nice!!” Poor man, has no idea!!!! His words of reassurance fell upon deaf ears as I plugged in the curling iron, grabbed every hair brush and comb that I own and went to town as if I had just walked out of the shower. This is going to take me days, I’m thinking, before I’ll be able to work with what has now been given to me at a cost of $47.00. Yes, cheap at most prices, but ever so expensive in vanity!!!

I have no qualms or quarrels with my new ‘young’ hair stylist. She’s got a good heart, but has to work with a head lacking in substance, volume and lushness. And so I’ll keep working away at my dilemma and lack of self-satisfaction until I get it to go either the way I like, it grows out or I get it cut off. The choices are few, but at least I’ve got one or two!! I’ll do what Nat (oh so naive Nat) tells me to “just give it a few days“. Men, they really don’t get it!!


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