Today I'm thinking about hair.  What better reason than to start a self-indulgent pursuit like a personal blog than to cogitate on one's own hair?  I recently posted pics on my FB page of all my elementary school pictures.  Horrified friends could not imagine why I would subject myself to such public self-flagellation.  (And I haven't even read 50 Shades Grey--which I am sure has nothing to do with hair color)  It is fascinating to look at one's hair history.  The inappropriately named Pixie Cut--which made me look more like a deranged leprechaun than a darling little pixie.  The Flip--a hair style made to defy physics--I mean, does anyone's hair naturally just grow straight down then suddenly do a curl up at just the very ends--like gutters at your shoulders, ready to catch rain water.  Then there was the long, straight, hippy hair.  This was pre Chi Straighteners and curling irons. (and just tell me why the hell it took so long to invent those?  I mean, that is NOT rocket science).  To achieve the cool Cher look, it took either a half of a tub of Dippety Do or laying your head on an ironing board as if submitting to  human sacrifice  and literally ironing your waves away.

My own personal Hair Armageddon had to be The Perm.  About every 6 weeks I would subject myself to the potions concocted by Rita and come out looking like Richard Simmons with breasts.  And I thought I looked good!  I liked the simplicity of The Perm --just wash and Poof!

Below is a nice example of a combo disaster--perm, scotch tape bangs (you know what I mean, your Mom scotch taped your wet bangs down on your forehead so she could get a straight cut as she gnawed away at your hair with dull scissors) and the super cool head band.

The result of all these hair disasters?  At 56 I will pay any price to a hairdresser that can cut and color my hair into something that people will not point and laugh at.  Today.   In  20 years, I'll probably again be wondering, "What was I thinking?"