This morning when I woke up I took one look at my head and realized that I am no longer sporting hair, no, what I have sitting atop my skull is a mess of straw that very closely resembles a rats nest. Granted, I have never seen a rats nest, but I have seen rats. They are ugly critters with beady eyes and long, sharp teeth. I don’t have beady eyes and long sharp teeth either, but that’s beside the point. What is a gal to do when she has a head that a filthy critter would find alluring to burrow in and raise a family? I’ll tell you what this gal did … I got out those trusty scissors and chopped away. So long rats nest! Hello … beehive!
See, here’s the thing … You can cut the nest out of the head, but you can’t neccesarily make it stylish at 5:00 a.m. Oh, I tried. Indeed I did, but you see, once you start drying your hair a certain way, it becomes habit. Visions in the head do not neccessarily emerge outside of said head. Yes, the straw hath been removed but left in it’s place is a lovely mass of two-tone (way past needing a color touch-up) array of locks that just don’t seem to know their place in the do. You see, I have a condition that in salon terms is called, "very fine" (if you were standing here in front of me you would be witnessing air-quotes), This is where those handy styling aids called ‘gel’, and ‘hairspray’ come in… except the kind of spray I have is more closely related to shellac … What better way to raise the strands and give them a permanant place on the head then a bottle of perma-spray? None I tell you … none! I curl and spray and rearrange and spray and wet down and re-dry and spray and then … VIOLA’ … a do that any queen would be proud to raise her hive! Yes, folks, I can hear the buzzing now … So long rat’s nest! Hello hive!
And so on this fine Wednesday morn, I proudly recall, "The higher the hair, the closer to God." I am there baby! I am there! Amen.