Girl School

Immediately let me begin by saying no where in this will be girls in plaid skirts innocently pursuing curious liaisons.

I must be the anti-girl. Not that I am anti-female or anything of that nature. I cannot do hair, at all, almost never. The only styles I can consistent pull off are pony tails and pig tails. So I guess I never made it past age five in hairstyles.

Got this super sexy do, left the stylist and looked marvelous. Recreating this effect takes all the special effects of Star Wars I think. I have product, the right brush (had no idea there would be a wrong one), hair dryer and mirror to observe my progress.

I lose interest faster than my hair loses body. This hair straightening thing sucks. Later this weeks I will be given lessons by a pro because at this point the thing on my head only appears to be getting bigger. After some hair exorcism I hope to get this under control.

Five inch high heels no problem. Eyeliner no problem. Hair – no idea in the world. Did I miss this day in girl school? I am convinced that there must be a place to complete our girl indoctrination. Tomboys and bookworms must have been purposefully deleted from the invite list. How do so many women know instinctively it seems, know how to do this shit?

Popular science, mechanics, and the economist are the only magazine of regular interest to me. So I miss out on the cool hair tips from Cosmo. Regarding the cult of celebrity as a plague I also stay ignorant of what who’s her face doing with her hair. Which is why I had to reach out to be trained.

Star Trek and the Jetson’s have failed me. By this point in life I really need to just stick my head in some 50’s dryer contraption and come out gorgeous. All other attempts are proving futile. Lets hope the lessons work out or it’s the Borg.

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