Here it is! The day we've all been waiting for! And if you have your giant "June's Beauty Treatments" calendar next to your huge "June's Illnesses" calendar, you already know THIS IS THE DAY I GET THE OVERPRICED HAIR STRAIGHTENING TREATMENT!
I barely slept all night. It was like Christmas Eve. Except under the tree was uninsane hair.
I guess "uninsane" isn't really a word. But who cares? I'm gonna have straight smooth hair like Janis the muppet!
Were they making fun of Janis Joplin with the Janis muppet? Except Janis Joplin had wavy hair.
Did I ever tell you the summer I was 16 I was obsessed with getting a scratchy voice like Janis Joplin's, so I kept drinking Southern Comfort and screaming? I am not making this up.
I thought it worked for her, it would surely work for me. Have you met my helium voice? It did not. I did get early onset cirrhosis, though.
Speaking of which, I went to my headache clinic for my several hours of medical prodding yesterday. Oh, it was the best time ever. Almost as good as getting one's hair straightened. They took FOUR TUBES of blood to test me for just everything.
If I find out I am not dying, I start the experimental drugs at my next, you know, girl time. When I check into the Red Roof Inn. When Miss Scarlett comes home to Tara. You get my drift.
And believe it or not, each month that I take this drug (I take it for six months), I have to take a PREGNANCY TEST before I start. I am going to be 45 in July, and measures have been taken. Trust me. But okay. They're being safe. This is a new drug and they don't want to muck things up. Actually it isn't a new drug. It has been used for heart patients and now they think it'll work on menstrual migraines. I mean, migraines for when I'm playing in a ragtime band.
Okay, I'll stop.
So they supplied me with a pregnancy test for this month.
Who's mature? I giggled at this for 85 minutes.
I hope I never, ever get pregnant, as my child would be more grown up than me at about 18 months.
When the nurse was questioning me, I think I scared her. "When did you first get diagnosed with migraines?" she asked.
"March 17, 1995," I said. I remember it was St. Patrick's Day. Plus I am an idiot savant about dates. I saw she just wrote down "1995."
There is a 33% chance I got placebos, and when she handed me my drugs I had this overwhelming feeling that's what I got. She does not know if they are placebos, either. It is a double-blind test. Also, she gave me a card to put in my wallet, so if I am ever in a horrid accident and incapacitated, the card gives a number to call and they will "unblind" me–that was the term she used–so they can save my life without drug interactions.
It's all so complicated!
Anyway, none of this matters because I am about to go get my hair straight. I took a before picture for you and tomorrow you will have an after picture. Gives you a reason to get out of bed, doesn't it? Maybe it you're lucky I'll put that pee picture back up, too. Maybe I'll just make it my masthead. Ooo! Tshirts!
Okay, here's my before shot.
See. You knew I'd have to do something dumb first, didn't you?
Okay. Here we go. My before shot.
Sadly, this is not a joke. Here it is. In all its glory. Marvin said, "What if I don't like your hair straight?" I reminded him he's been dealing with THIS hair for 14 years. Could it really look worse?
This bed was actually unmade, though, when Marvin plopped his guitar case on it and Henry flumped right in.
Cats. Going everywhere stupid to sleep that it is possible to go.
Speaking of going…
Okay! Show you my STRAIGHT HAIR tomorrow!!