April 8, 2002
12:47pm Monday

ALL ALONE, I SIT HOME BY THE PHONE

I have gigantic hair. It's always been this way, ever since it started to grow. And it's both a curse and a blessing - the curse list is long and includes frizziness, poofiness, sticks out in a crowd, and requires buckets of loot to maintain. But the blessing reason is singular: the mop makes my tiny head look bigger. Wet my hair and I'm a corn kernal sitting on top of a hotdog.

A few months ago I was hanging out in a hotel lobby with a group of older relatives while they waited for their flight out of LAX, and talk turned to my wedding and what I'd done with my hair. I said that I'd had the hairdresser straighten it, on account of such a special occasion warranting some semblance of polish and sophistication (but didn't mention how my mother-in-law, upon seeing me emerge from my car after the trip to the hairdresser, said later that day (the wedding day) to Gray, "I almost shit when I saw her hair straightened!" because she'd wanted to stick flowers in my mane of unmanageability). The women relatives in the hotel lobby said, "Did the straightening work?" and I said no, not really, that it had semi-spazzed the second it hit the atmosphere, to which one of them said, "You should've used some of that black people's relaxing cream."

They're from Ohio.

And now, at the pinnacle of poverty, I have found the perfect shampoo, conditioner, styling creme, and hairdresser. They are all very, very expensive. But now that they've been discovered, I cannot bring myself to return to Supercuts and big Costco bottles of Herbal Essence. I may soon make my home from cardboard, but my hair will be silky smooth sans flyaways. I'm working on a rainwater-funnel-shower prototype now.