Yeah, I'm vapid ... and shiny, too!

I am seriously writing an entire blog entry about my hair. Yes, really, my hair.

I spent the afternoon at Gene Juarez before coming to work, and I am just entirely too happy right now -- especially considering I am sitting in doom-and-gloom central, aka the newsroom. I absolutely love my new haircut (the crappy cellphone picture doesn't do it justice). It's so short! Like too short for a fallback ponytail. The irony is that when I was a kid, all I wanted was long hair to put in a ponytail. And when I was about 12, I thought I'd just perish if I couldn't have hair like either Teri Hatcher (the long, sleek bob) or Jennifer Aniston (her famous haircut). And needless to say, short, curly hair does not a Lois or a Rachel make.

So fast-forward a whole lot of years, and I finally have the hair I always wanted. I have been flatironing my hair since 2004, and while the process takes entirely too long (including blow-drying it when I wash it every other day), it's sooo worth it to me to have long, glossy, straight hair. Growing up, I always felt like the odd girl out because my friends -- and my sister -- had long hair with ribbons and bows, and I had stupid headbands and hair so thick that a parakeet got stuck in it and pecked my head. (Lends a certain amount of credibility to my lifelong fear of birds, eh?)

And this probably makes zero sense, but after dealing with it for roughly 21 years, I seriously have some kind of block against having curly hair now. Sometimes I let it air dry when I work days, and people comment that it looks cute -- but that's all it takes to send me screaming into the bathroom with my flatiron. I just can't fathom the idea of curly hair. On me, that is. It looks great on other people. But when it comes to my hair, it's not long, loopy curls. It's like Diana Ross by way of India. Not that I think I am Heidi Klum by any means, but I don't feel attractive whatsoever when my hair isn't done.

I actually took a picture of Teri from her L&C days -- not when it was really long, but when it started to grow out at the end of the fourth season -- and the stylist cut it similiar to that. (After pointing out that I don't look anything like Ms. Hatcher -- gee, ya think?! -- and that her neck is longer than mine. May I add that my regular stylist, who makes no such comments, is on maternity leave?!)

And there's something about Gene Juarez that makes it a little easier to part with $100 (I got my brows waxed, too) ... it must be the smocks, or the tea, or the aromatherapy scents in the spa area ... I spend 90 minutes in there and feel oddly tranquil about handing my credit card over. That kind of zen could be kind of dangerous, but hey, my hair looks pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. And furthermore, when am I ever zen?!