Prince called and wanted his 80″s hair back, so I had to find a new ‘do. You may recall that I’d previously attempted to use a flat iron without much success. Oh sure, the hair was straight, but not in a good way. It’s been a few weeks and my hair has grown since then, so I decided to give it another shot.
The flat iron, for those of you who don’t know, looks like a pair of electric hair tongs. Spring loaded, it stays in the open position until you insert a piece of hair and squeeze it shut. Then you pull it away from the head, allowing the hair to slide through the two sides, effectively being ironed along the way.
I’m sure that for people with naturally straight hair, this is a very quick and painless process—making their hair super-straight. But naturally curly hair doesn’t want to give up its identity that easily. And so, each small piece has to be ironed again, and again, and again.
This is where the process starts getting dangerous for me.
You see, I have a very limited amount of patience. Especially for things like ironing my hair. Unlike Hubster, the engineer, with infinite attention to detail, I just want to get it done and move on already. Hubster doesn’t iron his hair, but you can bet if he did, ALL of the individual hairs would be independently straightened. In fact, their straightness would probably be measured with a tiny, calibrated hair straightness measuring device. “Quadrant C-16 has 2 degrees of camber…” Do you have any idea how LONG it would take him to get ready? Sheesh! It already takes forever, as he has to inspect and cleanse every pore individually, and brush each tooth 652 strokes. I can’t imagine what the results would be if he did more than run a comb through his hair.
But, that’s not me. I’m all about get it done and move on. Mini Me will tell you, that I sometimes label the cockamamie ways she goes about doing things as “grossly inefficient.” Get it done. Move on. And so, when it came time to iron my curly hair into submission, the repetitiveness quickly wore on me. It was especially difficult to straighten those pesky, curly parts that tried to hide behind my ears. Those pieces are shorter than the top, and hard to capture in the electric hair tongs. I quickly lost patience. My movements began to gain speed, until the fateful moment when…
YEEOOUUCH! I did not grab my hair.
I grabbed my ear. Yup. Clamped that puppy right in between those electric tongs, I did. And while I quickly pulled the flat iron away, the damage was done. Burns, both front and back. Of course, with my hair being so short and all, there really wasn’t a good way to hide it. Especially from whoever happened to sit on my right. Now you’re probably thinking, “Oh, it’s probably not that obvious. I bet people don’t even notice.” Oh yeah? Every single person I’ve told this story to has had the same response: “I was wondering what had happened to your ear.”
It’s a good thing that I’m well past that self-conscious, afraid-to-look-like-a-dork stage of life.
I’m glad I have enough hair to iron, but I’ll be even happier when it’s long enough that I can let it be curly. This hair ironing, ear frying stuff is just grossly inefficient.