Living
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Life Changing

I bought a 2″ barrel curling iron but it did not change my life.  I was really hoping it would. It prompted me to finally sign up for Dirty Pop, wanting to add more cardio to my workout and believing sexy hair is required to make the moves work, more than knowing how to dance.  “One hour of choreographed hip hop moves poured out by a Pussy Cat Doll- like instructor” is how I would describe it.  Forget the  isolated hip thrusts and slithering around, I was fixated on how the teacher and two of the students were working their hair as much as they were gyrating their boo-tays.  As important as coordination, what makes the dancing divine is the full hair tossing, mussing and flipping.  How does their hair know not to stick to their foreheads?  Why does their hair, when pushed opposite to their natural parts,  seem sensual not scraggly?  Am I the only one reaching for my elastic?
For at least two months, my eye has been caught by many a beautiful head of hair.  The bend at the ends of long haired brunettes, kisses of highlights, perfectly imperfect fly aways, and multitasking jewelry visibly nestled in buns or as crowns showing off an urban bohemian beauty.  I want that casually tossed elegance with the lightness that translates in a photo and the gentle twists and tiny braids that hold up with nary a hairpin in sight.  I use good shampoo, recommended conditioners, and have a variety of sprays, oils, serums, and powders in my bathroom cabinets.  I keep two straightening irons, a massive blow dryer, and now two curling irons in my vanity drawer.    I like that my hair is soft, and I always want it to smell nice, which is the foundation to a properly groomed head, I think, but I will always be that outsider looking in, wanting to up my hair ante even just slightly, but hesitant to dip my toe in the hair coloring pool.  I often forget I have said products and default more and more to the exact opposite of the everyday look I aspire to, sweeping my hair up with the help of these three musketeers:  the elastic (every day), the tortoise clip (when I make an effort), and the claw clip (post shower).

The three musketeers like to tag team it on a rotating basis.

A curling iron is not going to get me primping with enough time to spare every morning, nor will it make me faster on my feet at a dance class.  I doubt the ideal hair will make me more efficient with my time nor improve my reading comprehension, but having that cut and color will let me focus my attention on other real life changing issues, at least for the next six to eight weeks. Even if the 2″ barrel curling iron is not responsible for ushering me into the gates of hair heaven,  it will, with a spritz of Elnett and more effort, make me not have to think about it, and that, for now, will be life changing enough.

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