Friday, February 8, 2008

My A-List Hair Rocks Harder Than Your A-List Hair

One of the things that assuages my almost daily nervous breakdown that this Writer's Strike is still going on, (oh, and by nervous breakdown, I mean, the desire to eat 14 RED VELVET CUPCAKES daily and not like, a real nervous breakdown, like when I'm telling stories about my Mom), anyway, one of the things that dulls the pain of THE APOCAPLYSE that is my life, is the kindness of businesses in L.A. that give striking writers discounts and free stuff so we can have a little SILVER LINING on this dark and stormy cloud.

My friend L, who DAILY combs the list of free or discounted stuff being offered to us, called me in a HOT PANIC that one of the most FAMOUS SALONS in Beverly Hills was offering free cuts and colors to striking writers and, "WE NEED TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT NOW! NOW! WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING TO ME?! NOW!"

I have a secret fear of hair salons. I was trying to be all cool, like CONAN & LETTERMAN who had "STRIKE BEARDS," so I called the recent three and a half months neglect of my hair, "STRIKE ROOTS." Funny how six inches of dark brown roots just looks "homeless" instead of "ironic."

About five months ago I went to my salon which had been taken over by a new owner who had only cut and colored my hair once. I was ass deep in my DEPRESSION, WEARING SWEAT PANTS & SHIRTS as all matters of clothing and may or may have not been infrequently bathing.

The guy saw me, my strung out bed head hair and bed body AND HE REFUSED TO TOUCH MY HAIR. "I just can't... it's just... look at it... it's such a mess. Why even bother?" OF WHICH ALL I HEARD WAS: "Look at you, YOU'RE SUCH A MESS, WHY EVEN BOTHER?"

Of course, I prompted burst into tears and fled. (Okay, actually, I said the "F" word to him A LOT. I was really humiliated and I UNLEASHED THE FAT GIRL FURY.)

Even as I told the story to my friends and they sympathized and strategized to EGG HIS CAR, CRANK CALL HIS BUSINESS, JACK HIS REP UP ON THE INTERNET, BURN DOWN HIS SALON (my friends are NOT to be messed with), I couldn't help but think:

"HE IS RIGHT."

Yeah, maybe he should not have refused me service but, I really NEEDED A KICK IN THE ASS to see my TRUE sad-sack self and how I was presenting myself. It wasn't long after that, that I gave up sweatpants (thought THERE HAVE BEEN RELAPSES) and started taking better care of myself.

Which all comes back to how YESTERDAY, I was trying to OVERCOME MY INSANE FEAR of a FANCY-SCHMANCY hair salon that caters to the likes of Julia Roberts, Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock. WHAT IF THEY THROW ME OUT? What if they make me feel as horrible as that other guy did?

I'M RAW, LADIES, I CAN'T TAKE THAT AGAIN!

But I bucked up. I went there and I surrendered. Even when the colorist took my CRAZY STRAW LIKE HAIR and twirled a lock of it and looked at me like, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" I said, "Yeah, it's bad, I'm a hot mess and I need help. Whatever you want to do, you're the artist, do it." (SUBTEXT: "Please DO NOT REJECT ME. PUH-LEEEEEEEEEEEZE!"

And he did not. HE WENT TO WORK. He gave me a base color so I no longer had the CRAZY CONTRAST of dark BROWN hair with BLONE highlights (LIKE ANYONE WAS EVER BELIEVING THAT). Then he painted in some highlights that look SEXY FINE. And because he thought it was A SIN worse THAN ADULTREY to let me have SEXY FINE color with a SUPERCUTS cut, he sent me down to someone else to take care of that.

When I saw myself after that cut and blowdry, I ALMOST CRIED. My hair has NEVER looked so good and I almost didn't want to go to sleep last night because I wanted to STAY UP ALL NIGHT looking at it. At me.

I've always had this thing, like, I don't deserve things until I am perfect. Until I have a job or a boyfriend or the right weight. I AM REALLY TRYING TO CHANGE THAT MIND SET.

I don't want to be all "LESSON-Y" but I was thinking, "It's gonna stink in 3 months when I'm back to my old pre-Cinderella self." Then I thought, I am DOING SO MUCH to get out of this depression, why can't I make the same sacrifices for my hair? I can put money aside like I do for therapy. I'd rather give UP A LOT OF THINGS that I don't truly need to feel this FABULOUS & FIERCE.

Because I want to feel this good about myself ALL THE TIME and I don'r want to WAIT FOR IT ANYMORE. Julia & Cate & Sandy don't, so why should I?
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