I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions generally, but this year, I have made one to face a certain reality:
That is not “mostly straight hair” up there. It does not “just need a little goo and it’ll lie down fine.” (It isn’t completely dry yet in that picture, either.) It is a mass of strangle-vines that laughs in the face of most flat-ironing and spits out Loma Pearatin like used chewing gum. However, it is my hair, and this year’s resolution is to arrive at a truce, possibly via a wide-toothed comb and a prayer.
Happy New Year, everybody!
