Tag Archives: Hair

On being “too efficient”

30 Jan

I pride myself on being efficient. Sometimes to a fault.

I once tried to insert the metallic sun-screen in the windshield of my car before I had finished parking.

You would think I would learn, but that desire for efficiency is a MONSTER, I tell you.

And so it was that – at 6am – I decided to combine two “not so fun” tasks in an attempt to create efficiency and get a jump on my day.

Dressing to exercise, I went into the bathroom and started coloring my hair. One of the reasons I do it at home is (in addition to being cheap) that I can’t stand the idea of sitting in a salon for an extra hour while waiting for it to process. At home, I can generally knock it out in 40 minutes, including the 30 minutes the color actually needs to sit on my hair. But those 30 minutes when it’s sitting? Feels like such a waste of time.

So this morning, in my stroke of brilliance, after applying the color and setting the timer for 30 minutes, I got on my bike and dialed up a 25 minute Peloton ride. I mean, if I have to sit around for 30 minutes anyway, I might as well knock out a workout, right?

I was feeling pleased with myself until around the 8 minutes into the ride, when “my collarbones started to glisten” (which is the Peloton instructor’s delicate euphamism for “started sweating like a pig”). I wracked my brain: does my HEAD sweat? I honestly couldn’t remember. I knew my FACE got sweaty, but I wasn’t sure about my head.

Compulsive as I am, I decided to finish the workout, come what may.

I soon had confirmation that my head does, in fact, sweat, and without a mirror, I found myself hoping that what was trickling ever so gently down my forehead was simply sweat, and nothing more.

Workout complete, I went to shower and rinse the color out of my hair. I stopped to look in the mirror. Looking back at me was Rudi Giuliani.

I shuddered, feeling something akin to empathy for the man. I might not like him or respect him. In fact, I might think he deserves to do long, hard time in prison. But for once, I teetered on the brink of understanding some tiny sliver of his brain. Because in those dark veins of dye running down his forehead on that press conference, I finally understood that I had caught a glimpse of a fellow Efficiency Queen.

And now I’m thinking back to every time I’ve told a client that “a strength over-done becomes a weakness.” As it turns out, efficiency isn’t always a desirable thing.

Just ask Rudy.

Tags: , , , ,

Go on, sniff my hair – it’s delicious!

10 Nov

Screen Shot 2019-11-10 at 2.29.38 PM

From the LUSH website.

When I travel, I take a bar of LUSH shampoo with me. That way I don’t need to use the hotel shampoo, which keeps one piece of single use plastic out of a landfill or – just as likely – the ocean. The added bonus is that LUSH products smell delicious and lather up like a beast. The only (potential) problem? The shampoo bar I like has all kinds of seeds and fibers imbedded in it. I’m not sure exactly what purpose they serve, but…

…When I rinse my hair it often looks as if I’ve just used my hands to toss a quinoa bowl, which isn’t exactly what you’re looking for out of a shower. Kitchen? Yes. Shower? No.

…I fear that if I don’t rinse my hair well, I’ll become a walking bird feeder, doomed to a fate similar to Tippi Hedren’s. I imagine having to windmill my arms to fend off a flock of hungry sparrows.

…I wonder if I’m clogging up the plumbing by sending these seeds down the drain. And for the seeds that end up in the bottom of the shower and don’t go down the drain – what does the housekeeping staff think?

…On the positive side, in a survival scenario, I’m 80% confident I could eat my shampoo for the nutrients.

Are you sold?

 

Tags:

Guess it’s time to dye my roots.

30 Aug

Alan and I have been living on different continents for much of the past four months. As a result, he’s viewing me with fresh eyes. At least, I’d like to think that’s what prompted him – completely unprompted – to ask this weekend,”Wow. How dark is your hair naturally?”

I looked at him steadily, and in the pause that allowed me to formulate my thoughts, he continued, “I mean. I’m confused. I’m not seeing the amount of silvers that I usually do, so you must’ve dyed it recently, but the roots are still really dark. Almost brown. How do you do that?”

Admittedly, I find it endearing that he doesn’t realize how most women would take this. (Flashback to when he compared me to a calico cat because I had swirls of blond, brown and gray hair.) And I’m under no illusion that I have great hair or even well-colored hair.

The truth is, I don’t know what my natural color is. I was blond as a child and started swimming in middle school, so my hair has had some degree of chemical treatment since I was 11. Since I now have a ridiculous number of grays on my head (random guess would point to 25%), I color my hair to help them blend in, rather than to chase some fantasy of being blond.

In any case, Alan’s fascination with my hair led me to explain that I couldn’t exactly define “natural,” but I was pretty sure it wasn’t actually blond. He seemed satisfied with that explanation, so we hopped a bus to meet friends in Georgetown for a mid-hurricane brunch.

Continue reading →

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

The figurative hair toss.

20 Jun

My hair is about the same texture. And I own a brush.

My parents were generous with the genes. I have ten fingers, can perform simple arithmetic in my head, and am generally employable. Let’s be clear on my gratitude before I start to whine.

One area in which their chromosomes did not work to my favor? Hair. I was a bald baby, and – based on the hair in my shower drain – am returning that state with haste. Which, while acceptable for a man, is a serious curse as woman.

Continue reading →

Tags: , , ,

A Letter: to the woman next to me in yoga today…

19 Apr

Dear Lady:

(And I use the word “lady” loosely for reasons that will soon become evident.)

If you decide to hit a yoga class, how about you show up on time? Because the idea is to get relaxed and centered. And none of that is possible if a woman who is shaped like Sponge Bob comes to class ten minutes late, walking as if she has bricks strapped to her feet, and then proceeds to roll out her mat RIGHT NEXT TO ME, as if there’s not 200 sf of other real estate available in the room.

Further, if you ARE going to show up late (thereby calling attention to yourself and interrupting the channeling of my loving kindness) to nestle in close to me, then please, for the love of God and small puppies, SHAVE YOUR LEGS. Because the last thing I need to see, when I’m in a supine twist (my legs going one way and my head aimed in your direction) is a Hobbit-like leg, three inches from my face. It makes me want to find a grill lighter and start singeing your shin. Not very zen of me, but neither is your hairy drumstick.

I know, I should be all “I love Earth Mothers” and that – especially since I’m into yoga. But come on. If I can find the time to shave my legs (which are SIGNIFICANTLY less hairy than yours), you should be able to find the time to either a) shave, or b) don a pair of long pants so I don’t have to throw-up in my mouth repeatedly while trying to practice ujjai breathing.

Speaking of ujjai breathing – did you hear the song that was playing when you arrived? I think it was supposed to be “ujjai” that they were chanting, but by the time they mixed in the beats and repeated it quickly, it just sounded like “vaginavaginavagina” to me. Did you think so too? If you agree, I might be willing to cut you a pass on the hairy legs for one more session. I just want to know I wasn’t going crazy there on my mat.

Anyway. I’m sure you’ll be more punctual (and better groomed) next time. (See how yoga makes me more positive?)

Namaste,

Alison

Tags: , , , ,

← Older Entries