My Irish grandmother had very unusual expressions. One of my favorites was how when she was grumpy she would say that her hair pulled. When I asked her to explain it once, she said “doesn’t it make you grumpy when someone pulls your hair?”
The thought of someone pulling my hair is pretty descriptive to me. I would be VERY grumpy.
Well, my hair pulls this week. I think lack of sleep has a lot to do with it. I am not sure if it is the time change or just everything on my plate right now, but I have been up by 3:30 or 4:00 am every day this week.
Summer has arrived this week in Savannah – IN MARCH. It has been in the 80s, with lots of pollen and sand gnats.
Plus, drunk college students are piling into Savannah as you read this. Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day celebration is the second biggest in the country and officials are expecting a record-breaking one million visitors this weekend. The city goes all out.
I am kind of grumpy about that too.
Working downtown and having to maneuver around the party being set up – and also the after effects – is kind of annoying. There is an upside though; it is a very good time of year for those of us who own part of a parking garage in downtown Savannah. Business will be BOOMING this weekend.
St. Patrick’s Day in Savannah reminds me a lot of Princeton Reunions. At one point (and maybe still), Princeton Reunions were the largest annual beer consuming event in the United States. They are really fun when you are in your twenties.
The last Princeton reunion I went to, someone peed on my shoe.
But back to the real reason for my hair pulling: tired + grumpy + warm and humid = a monumental HAIR FIT.
For those of you who read Why Am I Never Happy With My Hair?, you know I have a tortured relationship with my hair.
I am actually amazed that I have been growing it since I wrote that post in September. It is now at a really lovely stage. I had someone stop me on the street and ask me if I was related to this guy:
Ok, not really. If that had happened, I would have been first in line for this year’s St. Baldrick’s party (an annual charity event in Savannah at which people get their head shaved). I feel like it looks like that, though. The only way for me to control it and not look triangular-shaped is to put it behind my ears. That worked great until my ears started sticking out.
My hair problems started early in life.
I didn’t have any until I was about three. My mom tried to hide it by putting “girly” things on my head.
Well, maybe not always girly…
And then it made up for lost time.
The longest I had my hair was when I was a young attorney in Philadelphia.
The other morning when I was in forward fold in yoga, with my hands clasped behind me and I was stretching my shoulders, I thought if only I could reach my hands over my head and to the ground. I was reminded of the Skipper doll I had when I was a kid. Skipper had such loose shoulders that if you spun her arm around, her hair grew by several inches. That is about the only way my hair will ever be this long again.
Philly/New Jersey hair doesn’t work in Savannah, Georgia for a number of reasons. So I went short.
Short hair is addictive. It is so easy, and it looks good when you wake up in the morning.
I am at the point now that I have to “do” my hair before I go to yoga. Seriously, it is that scary looking in the morning. Maybe that is why I have been waking up at 3:30.
Short hair is easy to wash. Or, if you don’t have time, you can wear baseball caps to hide the dirt.
I can’t afford to have long hair as I will lose my huge investment in baseball caps. Many of them already don’t fit on my head anymore.
My poor husband. Ever since I asked him whether he likes my hair better long or short, he acts terrified of me. I couldn’t really hear his response as he ran off. At first I thought it was a cough (something he has being doing a lot of lately), but in retrospect, I am thinking it sounded a lot like “help me.”
Sometimes I worry that my blog posts make it seem that I am constantly successful in my efforts to become a better person. Those of you that know me realize that, while I am trying, I stumble quite a bit. For those of you that don’t know me personally, I thought it might be helpful to show you a battle that I will lose.
In this epic war of me vs. hair, hair is going to win every time. The only question is whether I will make it through the weekend.