My Easter Hair Scare...

I loved Easter as a kid.  Not so much the "Jesus died and has risen part".  The candy...easter eggs...and getting a new dress part.

Every year around Easter my sisters and I were treated to a shopping spree at Kmart for a new dress and shoes.  I was maybe 10 years old when I opted for a ruffled purple gingham dress.  And sandals with a hole hollowed out in the heel.  Remember those?  Like termite shoes but everyone thought they were cool.

Anyway, I looked like a square dancer but, hey it was Easter...gotta be festive, right?  The other tradition I kept was donning a special hairstyle for Sunday services.  I liked to think my congregation was as excited to see this year's Easter's hairstyle as I was to plan and reveal it.

One special ecoutrement to this year's hairstyle included barrettes intertwined in lavendar and white ribbons.  Extra lengths of ribbons cascaded from the barrette...Like a bad May Day pole.

The night before Easter I washed my hair and wrapped it in rollers...tightly.  I'm talking twisting the hair tightly before winding it as tight as I could onto the roller.  Small rollers too...I wanted tiny ringlets for celebrating Christ's resurrection.

The next morning as I got ready for church, I stood and stared at myself in the mirror as I removed the rollers.  I unclipped the pink roller and released the hair.  Upon release...the hair was so tightly curled, it wouldn't unfurl from  my scalp.  Each roller had the same result...I'd release the hair...and it would sit atop my scalp in a twisted ball.

I had a head of escargot.

Panicked, I attempted to comb through the hair hoping the curls would relax...No such luck.  It was at this point of discovering how awful my hair situation was that my brother came up to the doorway and died laughing.  After punching him in the chest, I slammed and locked the bathroom door muting his shocked cries of pain.  I didn't need his bullshit...No Siree...Especially on Easter...in this time of crisis.

I knew I was desperate when I sought hair advice from my mother.  The self professed perm/frosted highlight queen.  "Oh, just put it in a ponytail!  The curls will look like a bun!" she said.  I think it was the only time I felt my mother was genius.  "But the barrettes!  What to do with those?" I asked... "Clip them next to the pony tail."

Fucking Genius.  And it worked.  I pulled all the hair back into a high ponytail...and mom was right.  All those tight curls just formed themselves into a neat little bun.  Ribbons flowing freely from the sides....

I went to church and basked in my hair glory.  Glory to God.  Glory to my hair.  Tis a happy day indeed...

See ya....

Don't mind if I do...

I have a funny story I'd like to share about my little sister.  You guys would like her.  Another relative of mine who likes to dish the sarcasm. Anyway, she started a new job fairly recently as a preschool teacher.  She was really excited.

The first day initially went as she anticipated...introductions to her coworkers, learning where art supplies were, lesson plans, toy storage.  At one point early in her day, she realized she needed to use the restroom, but couldn't find a staff member because kids had started to arrive.  She roamed around the building until she finally located the women's restroom.  You know those restrooms at Starbucks? A room with a single toilet and sink?  It was like that....

She sat down on and spent a few minutes taking care of morning business.  You know, "coffee"..."morning"...I don't need to elaborate do I?  I'd hate to embarrass her.  But that's what she was doing.

As she stood up to flush and wash her hands, she happened to glance at the door to the bathroom.  She was mortified to learn that it had a window.  You see, she later learned that restroom was actually used for students...the window in the door so teachers could ensure the preschooler, likely learning how to use the potty, didn't need assistance.  We both guessed she was too overwhelmed being at her first day on the job to notice as she entered....

Regardless, she's fairly certain several of her fellow coworkers saw her sitting on her nest, but didn't say anything.  It was after all, her first day.  Probably wanted to cut her some slack.  Or something...

I'm sure she'll appreciate me sharing this story with the general public, but I couldn't resist.  And I know she'll being reading this...so let me also add how funny and glamorous she is...I love her...

Outta here...

My thoughts on hook rugs...

Ever make those dumb hook rugs as a kid?  I did.  A dog one.  Actually it was the very one pictured above.  Nice, right?  Look at the detail.  I know, it kind of looks like a skull with boobs and black George Washington hair, but you're supposed to be creative...Imagine it's a dog frolicking in a field of flowers.  I think in this particular shot designed for the rug, the dog paused for a moment to wonder where his fourth leg went.

And check out the brand..."Betty's Rug Squares"...for beginners.  Is there an equivalent of a black belt in hook rug artistry?  The label sure implies that.  And just who are the people who go on to advanced hook rug-dom?  I've never seen them.  Shame on Betty for creating false hope for a hook rug career.  I digress...

It took a good 6 months between boredom breaks to finish it.  Did I think my mother would ever use it as an entry rug?  Yes.  I mean, it was a 24" inch square after all...enough to rest a pair of shoes on.  And even if she didn't want to use it as a rug, I knew it could instantly be transformed to a picture or pillow.

Want to know my real thoughts on this craft?  I think hook rugs are just fucked up.  Created for kids so they stay out of their mother's hair. Time consumers.  Tedious.  No functional place in society really after they're done.  Too small to be a functioning area rug.  Too homely and sad to hang on the wall.  And who really would use one as a pillow?  If I wanted to lay my face on a carpet, I'd just plant myself on a floor.

Think I'll buy one for my kid when she's old enough...Get some quiet for a change...

Outta here...