Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Well, I am growing out my hair.

My mom bought me a new hairdryer when I went off to college. It was black and a bit of a workhorse, but not in that "I spend way too much energy on my hair" sort of way.

One of my roommates had the exact same hairdryer, so I put a sticker of a dancing lobster from The Little Mermaid on mine so that we could tell them apart.

I have been out of college for 11 years and that hairdryer is still kicking. Except ... that I left it at my parents' house by mistake two years ago. I didn't realize this until I was back at my place the next morning and I had to use an oscillating fan to dry my hair before work. I bought myself a new, not as workhorse-ish hair dryer, and it's ok, but it lacks that certain somethingsomething - namely that it doesn't smell like smoke like the other one.

Continuing my rich history of receiving hair dryers as gifts, Mr. Wonderful bought me a hairdryer to keep at his house. It's the same model as the one I bought for my house. I thought this was a very sweet gesture, and it made me feel at home on those mornings when I attempted to look normal and not all "Dude, I totally shacked last night."

This spring, after only a few months in service, the hairdryer at Mr. Wonderful's house crapped out. No smoke, no noise, nothing. It was a chilly spring day, and I let the car heater dry my hair as I drove to Corporate Behemoth. Once there, I pulled my styling goop and can of hairspray out and finished my hair in the ladies' room.

That night, I went to Target and bought another of the exact same hairdryer. Got it back to Mr. Wonderful's only to find that the old one wasn't broken - we'd just tripped a breaker.

Because I'm lazy and hate returning stuff, I just kept the extra hairdryer in his linen closet, figuring that someday I will need it.

Now, I have three of the exact same hairdryer. Three hairdryers at my house. Because Mr. Wonderful and I broke up.

I left his house with three Target bags full of my stuff. It's like I never existed.

What the fuck am I going to do with three hairdryers? Even with my Raquel Welch wig-esque hair, I do not under any circumstances require the drying power of three hairdryers.

And more importantly, what the fuck am I going to do without my best friend?


Mrs. G. said...

I suggest taking one of the three hair dryers and running over it with your car. It might make you feel better.

ZenCrafter said...

Could you maybe write a freecycle or classified ad looking for an incredibly gorgeous, hirsute gentleman to take one of the extra blowdryers off your hands? You have at least two chances, as I see it, to find another BF.

Seriously, I am sorry about the end of your relationship. I'm sure it's some consolation that you have some love coming your way, in the form of Linda Crispell's vintage-y giveaway. Some days I'd trade my best friend for a box like that!

JeanGenie said...

WTF indeed. Mr. (not so) Wonderful doesn't deserve you or your hair. In addition to finding a hirsute man to share a hairdryer with, you could donate one (since you'll still have an extra) to a woman's shelter or something to that effect. They might even take the extra Aquanet or Paul Mitchell hairgel you have laying around too. :) In all seriousness, though, I do think those places often need womanly beautifying products. And even more importantly, I'm really sorry about the demise of your relationship.