Big Hair Jobs

I can make my hair look like this. In fact, it probably looks like hers right now. Plus, I"m pretty sure this job is in my future.

Phone calls from my temp agency cause two immediate feelings: happiness and dread. I prefer working and get a little excited at the possibility of making my car payment or having the money to get my roots done. (It all comes back to hair!) But I also have learned to live with the feeling of dread. Companies don't use employment/temporary agencies to fill jobs that I am interested in or qualified for. Especially in this economy.

Happiness and dread go hand in hand in lots of situations. But let's not go there.

"The trouble with unemployment is that you wake up in the morning and you're on the job."
Slappy White

Dotted Swiss and Other Bad Fashion Ideas

It could be rickrack. It might be dotted swiss, ruffles or just the general Gunny Sax look. It comes back to haunt us. Beware friends of mine!! I have lots of photos. Here are just a few.

The Belle loved to buy dresses for me. I was in my 40s while they lived with us, yet she would primp and fuss over me like I was going to a prom.

I was looking for a particular photo and stumbled across every bad dress I wore to a dance or prom. My dates' attires were even worse: baby blue tux, etc. One date brought a top hat and a cane. We didn't date long.

There are no photos of me with a bad perm. The good news is that I never needed one. The bad news is my hair looked weird enough on its own.

Isn't it funny how a photo (or a song) can transport you in time? I like to look at them and ask, "What was I thinking?" I do remember. Mostly I wonder what my parents were thinking.

I wonder if the grown daughter feels that way about her Madonna stage. I wonder if the baby will regret dressing like the boyz in the hood. Or will they embrace it as just a stage?

Convertible People

I will never own a convertible. I'm not one of those people. On some peripheral level, I understand the appeal. It's probably like motorcycle enthusiasts: the wind in your hair ... the sun beating down on you ...

If I want to feel the sun, I'll go to the pool or I'll go on vacation. Don't get me started on the wind in my hair. I don't have convertible-friendly hair. The wind can mess with it on a good day. After a ride in a convertible, I bear a strong resemblance to Gilda Radner playing Rosanne Rosannadanna on SNL.

My friend and neighbor just bought a new convertible. I think it's her third. She is kind and will often let me ride with her to a mutual destination. She laughs at me because I spend the entire trip holding my hair.

Running into People

I swear Big Daddy knows every person in this city, the Midwest, and various other cities. I learned long ago to either step it up a notch or be prepared to be without makeup, clad in sweats and run into several people we know. A lot of these people don't really know me, they just know me as the wife of someone they know.

Usually I get caught at the drug store or the grocery store. Those are the destinations I am most likely to run to without giving a thought to my appearance. I don't think I've been in an airport in my life without running into someone I know but at least when traveling, I've made a minimal attempt at being presentable.

Yesterday, Big Daddy was taking Hangdog to the Home. I went to visit the mother-in-law. Still in sweats, not a stitch of makeup on my face. (She wouldn't notice or care.) I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair. That's about all I could manage.

I ran into Cynthia. Thank goodness she is my friend.

I can give up worrying about running into people in the grocery or the drug store. Now that we have two places to visit, I am guaranteed to run into someone I know at one of the Homes.