Self-portrait experiment number 37 |
The other night I was late for a party because, for the first time in my life, I was held up doing my hair.
Are you kidding me?
I had a collision of priorities, namely:
- Wash my hair
- Wax my hair
It may seem simple enough to do both, but it can be screwed up. I'd put off waxing for an extra week so my wife could focus more on blunting the tips (she felt she had the technique down, but wanted more time to have it on lockdown), so wax was on my mind. Moreso it was hot and humid and a good waxing makes for a more party-ready appearance.
The washing, like the waxing, could have been put off a day without it being disastrous. I'm more likely to err on the side of caution when it comes to hygiene, though, particularly since this is my first summer with matted coils of hair on my head.
So I showered, and washed my hair, and only then did I realize that I didn't have the time to let the locks air-dry. I got busy blow-drying the hell out of them, but this was no time to be forced to master patience! I hadn't budgeted for that extra time.
After wringing, toweling, shaking, and hot-air drying for longer than I wanted to I gave up with the locks damp, and set to waxing. I'd have to blow-dry them again anyway.
Waxing dry locks isn't just a good idea - it's damned near the law of physics. The wax slid off moist hair until I mashed on far more than is good for them, and my next round of blow drying was difficult because the wet hair held the heat, and burned the hell out of scalp whenever I pointed the dryer at any spot for more than about three seconds.
I moved the dryer around a lot, softening but not melting the wax. My wife noticed, and forced me back into the bathroom where she all but held me down and gave me a stern drying so that I wouldn't look like I was wearing candles on my head.
I think the blisters should be healed any day now.
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