It’s a Hair Raising Time

(Originall published on the 5th April 2013)

Since I’ve been here I haven’t been able to straighten my hair. I mean, I can spend the time doing it, but it just never lasts. It’s something I’ve only just noticed. Everyone has the odd bad hair day, when they do whatever they planned to do to it and then it starts to rebel and doesn’t stop. Little bits just pop up to say ‘hello’ and then more and more little bits follow suit and then suddenly you look like you stuck your fingers in a plug socket.

Anyway, this used to happen occasionally when I was at home and I really didn’t care or notice much because I could rarely be bothered to try making my hair look nice in the first place just to go to work to be grunted at by teenagers. But since I got here, I’ve been promising myself that I’m going to become ‘Fabulous New York Nicola’ and it’s really cramping my style. My promise to wear lipstick every day only lasted a week. It was maybe nine or ten days until my pledge to never break wind in a lift fell by the wayside. All I had left to me was the idea that maybe I’d have all of these good hair days because it’s New York and people (who go to hideously expensive salons and get terrible things done to their manes on a regular basis but we’ll ignore that tiny fact) do that. It’s genuine question time, folks. Could it be the soft water here? Am I being bitten in the arse by science?

Either way, I’m beginning to think I may as well just say ‘screw it’ and not get up until 6:15.

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