hair and the other 99 problems
if u don't have coherent thoughts u can at least have nice hair
I’m at the point in my life where every haircut is a surprise. Take today. I took the girls to nursery, came home, nothing spelled trouble. Just before dozing off for a much needed nap I thought: “Hair!”
Before falling blissfully asleep I used the online booking system to put myself down for 11:30 am.
Spontaneous 11:30am haircuts are one of the perks of not being conventionally employed. Never let them know your next move? Please! I don’t even let myself know my next move. Nobody could have predicted at 9am that I’d be so fabulous by early afternoon.
The thing is, I kind of have to do it all this way, because otherwise I just procrastinate. As you might have gathered from the literary (using the term loosely here) instalments of hair pt1 and hair pt2, the interactional implications (read: awkwardness1) of getting a haircut just make me cringe away from the idea.
First I have to prepare myself mentally and tell the mirror at home what I want. Only then am I able to tell the well meaning Argentinian man standing behind my chair wielding a bunch of sharp objects. Today, I had a picture to show him. I thought it might make things easier, but in reality it felt like citing WebMD to a real life doctor after googling your symptoms.
Why is it so hard to ask someone for what you want? That’s one for a whole separate therapy session altogether.
While lying down peacefully in the chair having my roots washed and massaged I thought wow, imagine being on the other end of these interactional implications.
"What the hell did I ever do to you??” I would wonder daily, while interacting with socially inept millennials. “Why are you so scared of me?! Just use your words! Tell me what you want! I don’t care where you put the bag!”
Every day Enrico wakes up, puts his best, least threatening (I’m assuming) smile on. “I sure hope people act normal today!”, he probably thinks before welcoming the first customer. That’s when I walk in.
I’d just drop my tools and go.
***
It’s not just the hair. I’ve been shying away from every and all logistical challenges lately. The only way to solve any of them, I came to realise, is by complete accident.
I have to do it all this way, because otherwise I just procrastinate. As you might have gathered from reading anything I’ve ever published on this here platform, the organisational implications of doing anything ever at all make me cringe away from the idea.
I have been confronted with some organisational questions lately. The first one came as a sudden unpleasant thought during one of the longer runs I’ve done last week in preparation for my half marathon.
I considered the fact that now my mom was’t coming, bringing Jules and the children was no longer an option either. That getting there, to Edinburgh, finding a place to stay that’s close to the starting line, figuring out how to not be horribly sweaty for the trip back home that same day… those are also concerns I need to address, like the adult in charge of my own activities that I am.
It was a somewhat comforting thought that running the race, just finishing it, might actually be the easy part. Isn’t that silly? If it’s this one big problem, then it’s “uh oh, very hard”. If there are also many other smaller problems, then it’s suddenly fine. I wonder if this is applicable elsewhere. I wonder, if that’s why I complicate everything so much and overthink. It’s like I can’t be failing to do every single thing. But once I can solve the little ones, then I can solve the big one, since I got so far already.
Yesterday I was hiding from my children in the bathroom when I finally bit the bullet and booked myself a bed in a hostel for the night before the race. It has all the conveniences to recommend it, if you don’t count the lack of privacy. I think I’m okay with a small lonesome adventure. This trip was supposed to include my fiance and children, a good friend of many years, my mom and her boyfriend. I imagined a lot how the day would go including all these important people.
Now it’s just me in a hostel bed, with a bunch of strangers. No matter. I do still have myself, which is really the important part. Without me, it’s just the race number bib being tossed around by the wind, attached to no body. That would just be like, littering.
And littering is wrong, especially in a city like Edinburgh. Scratch that, it’s wrong everywhere. But like, especially pretty cities like that. But really, it’s wrong everywhere, even if it’s already quite dirty. Like East London. Anywho, I don’t want to litter in a city like Edinburgh (or anywhere else), so I’ll go. Do the race. Be the body to attach the race bib to.
***
I also needed to book the flights to attend the bachelorette party of an old classmate. She lives in Germany. For some unknown reason direct flights from London City/Stansted airports to her part of the country have ceased to exist.
I solved that one while watching Mila pour an entire bottle of milk on the floor. I opened the map and saw Bremen was a viable destination, being only an hour and a half or so away from where I need to be. I’ve been to Bremen, a long time ago. I spent a week there with my music school orchestra.
We rode bicycles every day to a beautiful rehearsal space made entirely out of windows along a canal, or a river. I remember how sunny and peaceful I felt there. Riding the bicycle with my violin on my back, my friends cycling next to me. There were always fresh pastries and Nutella. All the adults were so nice.
That was the week in Bremen. The music was also really, very good.
I’m almost sad that I won’t have time to actually spend time in Bremen. I will arrive at 8:30 in the morning and head straight to meet the party, and fly back the next day.
I was telling an American friend about my travel plans. She said: “All these really brief trips you take to Europe, like the time you went to the Netherlands for one night only, just to go to a wedding. Sounds so magical.”
Maybe it does sound magical, but over here everything is so small. You fly over three different countries in a 1.5 hr flight. I wonder if the feeling an American gets when I say I’m flying to Bremen is the same feeling I get when someone talks about a semi-obscure American place.
Oooh, Delaware, you know? Must be magical there, in Delaware. Can’t believe you get to go. So cool.
***
So I continue to spontaneously, accidentally solve my logistical challenges. There are quite a few more.
Every time something gets checked off the list, it’s a surprise. So I continue working through it. I let myself accomplish things whenever it feels right, rather than right now, or by the end of the workday, or whatever. The only thing I stick to a schedule with is running. Because time never feels right for that, I already know this.
Sometimes you just need the choice between planning a trip you’re nervous about and mopping up a gallon of milk. Suddenly, taking in the puddle on the floor, scrolling through a list of flights doesn’t seem so bad.
I hope you’re well, friend. What are your overwhelms? Tell me, and I’ll share my wisdom: “one thing at a time.” That’s the only way.
No but seriously, where the hell does the bag go? If you put it on the floor then they’re all: “Oh would you like it on the table” but then it’s on the table and in the way, and that’s a whole other thing.
I have to admit, I love alone trips. Just know that I'll be cheering for you at the finish line, Ani (all the way from LA). And, no offense to Delaware, but I don't think anyone has ever referred to it as "magical" or "cool". Tiny? Yes (it's the second smallest state next to Rhode Island). What people in the rest of the world tend to forget is how spread out the US is (and why more of us don't make it to the rest of the world and, BTW, you're welcome). From where I live, it's a 6-hour flight to New York City and a 6-hour flight to Hawai'i. I'm happier to drive 2 hours to Palm Springs. (When people on planes behave and planes stop falling apart, I'll renew my passport.) Have a wonderful time on your adventures, lovely. Great things can come from spilt milk. And good haircuts. xo
My stylist has a little cabinet cubby kind of thing behind the mirror. It's big enough to hold my bag *and* coat! 😄