Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Not a Totally Straight Way

My straightener blew up yesterday. Right in my hand. It popped, a light flashed, and the instant smell of burnt plastic filled the air. It was seriously scary.

Unfortunately, that means that I’m without my general method of corralling my mop into some semblance of order. Ya’ll know that most of the time, if I’m not going out-out, then my hair is up in a knot on my head. Still, I’ll straighten my “bangs” (aka the shortest layers in the front of my head). Even when I let my hair chill out with the normal beach waves, I’ll straighten the front. It's kinda an OCD thing...if I straighten it, I know where it is.

It’s kinda funny, because in High School, I mostly just used hot rollers. Part of that was just Houston, and the weather that went along with it. I mean, even when I straightened my hair…unless my hair was super dirty…it wasn’t so much straight as it was straighter. With the exception of when Lauren would spend a good hour working on making me look half-Asian, It wasn’t until I got to the arid Las Vegas that I realized how easily I could straighten my hair.

I guess I’ve kinda forgotten what I have to do in order to control the shenanigans on top of my head, without the use of a hot iron. So, of course, today I woke up with something resembling the love child of a lion’s mane and Tina Turner’s hair during that whole long ‘n’ crazy phase. WTF am I supposed to do with that?!

Well, I fired up the curling iron and worked my way around…trying to organize the mess into something more Marilyn Monroe than the white-fro I was sporting. I turned out looking a bit like Shirley Temple. It doesn’t help that my hair doesn’t need any product to do this. I mean, It took most of the freaken day for the damn curls to fall enough to look right. Blah.

But I digress. (Wow, that was a lot about my hair. Sorry about that.)

In other unrelated news, I keep getting hit on by this super cute Persian waitress at this cafĂ© I occasionally frequent. It’s flattering, in a way, to have a hottie make a real effort to flirt with me. I mean, I’m not completely against women…I just can’t see anything happening long term. At the end of the day…well, physically, I don’t see it working out. But I can appreciate a nice looking girl better than most.

A always used to say that I checked out chicks more than he did. He wasn’t completely incorrect. I think then it was more of a combination of always hanging out with guys…and getting there first. You know, the whole, make ‘em laugh before they start laughing at you thing? Just with girls.

So I have this dilemma because she’s a sweet girl with a lot of personality…and I wouldn’t mind another friend. I would, however, rather she not get the wrong idea. With a guy, I’d be straight up. Hey, not into you that way, let’s be friends, etc. He’d decide whether or not I was cool enough to hang out with minus the naked playtime. With a girl, it’s a lot harder. Girls are…different. We’re not wired the same as guys are. (Well, clearly there are exceptions, as I’ve been told many times that I’m such a guy.) I don’t know how to be like, “Sweetheart, I totally like you, but I’m just not that into you, THAT WAY.”

Any ideas? No? Hmm. We shall see if anything becomes of that…

Quote of the Moment: "Yes, Ellen is funny. I enjoy her show. Much like I enjoyed Rosie...but maybe I just have a thing for the lesbians.”

Soundtrack of the Moment: Lady Gaga, Just Dance

TV/Movie Quote: Chasing Amy: “Since you like chicks, right, do you just look at yourself naked in the mirror all the time?”

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