Hairy
Dear Diary,
Once in awhile, a girl.. we’ll call her my MIL Ru, feels the pressure n-e-e-d to switch up the old hairstyle a bit. You know.. because come onnn. She needs to stay current with the trends of the TIMES. Of course one never knows what time it actually IS here on the ole floor DEMENTIA. But I’ve noticed the trend these days starting to lean towards something reminiscent of a look I like to call.. DISTURBING. It’s this bushy, tosseled, overly texturized screaming 1974, I’M A CUTE LITTLE TROLL DOLL LOVE ME WON’T YOU, look:
So what do I do? Just like I did with MY troll doll (sigh). I bring her into the bedroom, close the door, pull out the scissors and hack away. Then when I’ve given aforementioned troll a Mohawk and I get busted, I simply go and do what any ONE of you would do in a heartbeat.. blame it on my sister.
“Ru.. I want to make you look fresh and snappy— make the eyes POP and your cheekbones crackle” I say, as I’m running my fingers through a head of hair TO. DIE. FOR. Thick, delicious, crispy.. Crap. Ignore me. I’m hungry. I’ve been standing over Ru for like an hour and forty-five minutes trying to cut flakey CHUNKS into her hair. At least I think that’s what they said I should do during my 5 minute 56 second instructional hairdresser licensing video on You Tube. Ummmm. Uh oh. Now I’m thinking the “flaky chunks” reference might have been bandied about by Ru and her table-mates while enthusiastically shoving tuna fish in their mouths. Feh.
I’m telling you guys— you HAVE to see this video but be warned.. it’s in Japanese only. So in case you don’t recall your quarter of High School language class.. You might be confused. I’ll help you out. First they’re all, “THIS is how you put your willing volunteer in the chair..” Wait. Bu-hut what if I don’t H-A-V-E one of THOSE.. “a willing” what you said? I refuse to resort to administering meds for PERSONAL reasons.. so will you be addressing THAT? Apparently I’ll need to turn towards OTHER methods to entice my “client” to be willing. Which brings us to the OFFERING of the beverage of her choice.
“Ru..?”
“What do you want me to do now? Jump out the window with my bat cape on?”
“Ha ha. You’re sooooo funny. Just sit down here Madam and make yourself comfortable. May I bring you a drink.. some tea? Maybe a nice chilled prune juice..or judging by that LOOK on your face some.. STOOL SOFTENER. KNOCK IT OFF granny. Don’t you trust me?”
“I’ll have the tea.”
and I’LL have..
Once I got Ru in the chair, it became all about my stance behind my “models” chair. You have to make sure that you have the correct posture and stance in order to do a superior cut I found out. Alrigh-ty. Left leg slightly turned out like THIS and the right foot kind of behind the left leg.. ummmm.. like urrrrr… like this. Ohhh. It’s like a lunge. Yeah. So I need to bend the left knee EVER so slightly. Voila! I see how this is going to SO set me up for absolute FAILURE. But I comfort myself in the knowledge that I’m so DRAT blessed with my UBER supportive and forgiving MODEL who at this very second is craning her neck around to comment that HER regular “guy” doesn’t do a dance before HE cuts her hair. As if I care what he does because I (snip) am going to ROCK (snip) his world (snip snip) with my natural GAWD given talent (snip). Can I have you hold my scissors while I run to the potty?
“Ru.. look down at YOUR lap.. not my lap. Turn around.”
I’d like to blame the amount of time it took to create my masterpiece on the problems I had with my VOLUNTEER not following directions. Like when I say, please Ru.. I’d prefer if you didn’t shout at passers by, who have popped in to see if you’re.. dead here, “HELP! HELP! She’s scalping me.. can you find someone?” Now, what are they supposed to do with that? I have FEELINGS too. Besides.. It’s not like you’re going to TIP me now is it? Sit still.
I must admit.. at about the hour mark I chose to spit in the eye of caution and completely approach Ru’s head as a (6 year old) artist approaches his coloring book— reckless, wild and totally outside of the lines of REASON. Big bold strokes of the scissors saw hairs floating hither thither. I became one with my inner (hungry as all get out.. beeotch) to chip away as the higher powers that be saw fit. Until.. at last. I stepped back (out of my lunge in fifth position a la ballet kindergarten) to see this..
And who’s going NEXT? Heading home to pull my boys out from underneath the couch..
A
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I just have to ask myself 1 question. Why did I watch the you tube before reading the rest? I keep doing the suck in giggle. The one, that you just know, that gaint laugh is going to pop out your voice box. Waken all the children. Which has just taken you over an hour to put to sleep.
That was the best blog.
Thank You Again
Ky
I, uh , think that I’ll just go see my regular girl unless………you’d be willing to share that bottle with me (?)…… LOL