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In all the serious mess of my screwed up world, I find it easier to focus on details of life that have remained constant. One constant in my life has been my obsession with my hair. Always, always, since I was a young girl, I dreamed of having the perfect Marsha Brady hair. I’ll be honest here. I do not have Marsha Brady hair. Truth be known, I have been doing so much damage to my hair since I was roughly fifteen years old- highlights, lowlights, perms, coloring- that by now, at age 43, I have no real recollection of what my real hair looks like. One thing is for sure, though, it is a far cry from the satiny sheet of gold that adorned my favorite Brady on television. If I were to let it go 100% natural, I am fairly certain I’d be horrified by the truth. I sort of expect that it is grayer than I’d like, darker than I’d dream, and frizzier than the fur on my tri-colored sheltie. In fact, I suspect that my natural hair would very much resemble the fur of my not-so-luxurious ancient geezer dog. It is a problem. My hair is not even a problem that I have really conquered. But in comparison to dealing with the loss of my boy, the hair is an issue that I feel compelled to attempt to tackle daily. So far it has been a losing battle. My hair, though not hideous, has never been straight nor silky enough. Curses on the genetics that gave me just enough wave to keep it from ever swinging around in that perfect swooshy way that only those lucky straight-locked girls can achieve. Many of my friends lament over the same problem- the Marsha Brady hair being a dream of many of us less fortunate in the hair department girls. Then there is Christy B. Christy B has this perfect, amazing dark, shiny, swingy straight hair that looks like a gorgeous raven’s wing. “It’s not fair!” I cried to her, after admiring her shiny locks, “You have such gorgeous straight hair.” “Oh no.” She replied. “My hair is actually very curly.” SHUT UP. Who knew? Christy B. with curly hair? Christy B of the raven’s wing hair? I had to know her secret. “I HAVE TO KNOW YOUR SECRET!” I begged, hoping she wasn’t one of those girls who want to hog all their beauty secrets in an attempt to keep the rest of us frizzy haired and ugly for life. She was more than happy to fill me in on the amazing flat iron she bought at her salon, saying that it had changed her life from one of the unhappy fuzz ball heads to one of the satin curtain haired girls. I was dubious, I will admit. I have probably spent enough on my hair over the years to upgrade us from our modest suburban home to a mansion in Beverly Hills- if only that money could be channeled back from hair products into our savings. How could this tool be different? So I asked her to use her flat iron on my big fuzzy head. I figured she would take one look at my mess of hair and just tell me to draw the attention away….. say to the eyes or the neck. Someplace without all that fuzz going on. Instead, she hooked up her magic flat iron, set to work- and a scant ten minutes later…… I HAD MARSHA BRADY HAIR! Seriously. Gorgeous, shiny, STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT hair. I called my friend Kristi (who shares my hair woes) to tell her. Naturally she did not believe me. Who could believe such a tall tale? So Christy B had to repeat the magic. When Kristi had HER hair transformed; we were sold. What an amazing, wonderful tool! WE HAD TO HAVE ONE! As of this writing (I know you people are on pins and needles here) Kristi has ordered us each a magic hair straightening wand and we are just HOURS away from perpetual hair perfection. Who says everything in life has to be difficult? Maybe this is one detail in life I can check off my list and move onto the oh, next BILLION other trivial problems plaguing my life.
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