Thursday, 22 November 2012

Curly hair is a MISSION



For those of you who have never met me  - or haven’t bothered to peruse my profile page (shame on you!) – I have very long, very thick, and very curly hair with which I have a serious love-hate relationship.   On the one hand, I love the fact that my hair is awesome and makes me stand out and look unique.   But on the other hand, curly hair is a mission to handle, expensive to maintain, and an all round pain.
  
The trick to dealing with curly hair is learning what works best for you, and one thing that I find definitely helps tame my locks is making sure that they are trimmed on a regular basis.   In East London this was no problem, but when I moved to Cape Town I was shocked to discover how much hairdressers expected me to pay for them to simply snip 2cm of hair off my head!
Luckily, I have amazing taste in friends and when fellow curly-haired Camilla heard my cries of woe, she selflessly offered to cut my hair for me free of charge!   (Ok, so it was actually in exchange for a drink, but let’s not split hairs.)   The first time Cam cut my hair, it was in her flat and the whole procedure went off without a hitch.   And so last week, when I felt that it was time for another trim, I didn’t even hesitate to ask my super-talented friend if she’d be willing to once again offer me her services.   Little did I know that things would not go quite as smoothly as before!

Now before you all start jumping to conclusions, the hair-cutting itself did not pose any problems.   In fact, Cam sheared my locks so expertly that I have a sneaking suspicion that she has other hidden talents that I don’t know about!   No, the issue arose when it came to disposing of the cut hair.   Luckily, we’d had the fore-sight to put down a towel before hand, however I had no clue how to rid the towel of my hair without spreading it all over my flat in the process.   So Cam suggests that I throw it out the window and I, without a moment’s hesitation, did exactly that.

The morning passed without either of us giving my discarded locks a second thought, until the moment came when I decided to stick my head out of my window so as to soak up a bit of sun.   And then I looked down and, lo and behold, there sat my shorn tresses in a great big pile ... a pile that had landed on top of my neighbours’ very shiny and very new baby blue Vespa!   Oh yes, the great big mound of curly awesomeness shone in the sun whilst it lay perched atop the motorbike like some kind of hairy crown.  
 
Obviously I couldn’t leave my hair there – what if my outraged neighbours found it and used it in some kind of weird voodoo ritual?   No, it was clear that it had to be got rid of.   And so, armed with a dish-towel and a giggling partner in crime, I made my way downstairs and out to the garden only to discover that my neighbours were home.   The newly-christened Vespa was parked outside an open window and it was obvious that I would be spotted.   And so I did what any sane person would do... I got on my hands and knees and leopard-crawled my way to the Vespa with the sounds of Camilla’s laughter in the background.   After a few minutes of frantic wiping of the motorbike, I grabbed the offending chunk of hair and quickly made my way back in the same manner in which I had come.

So what can we learn from this experience?   1) Always look out of the window before chucking out your cut hair.   2) Cam is a noisy sidekick.   And 3) Curly hair is a MISSION.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Trials and Tribulations



The universe has an interesting sense of humour.   Why is it that as soon as you think that your life is on track, then something monumental goes wrong and screws everything up?   After a fantastic weekend and a head full of positive thought and new resolves, I was ready to start off this week with a bang.   What I was not banking on was that even if I am in a good frame of mind, that does not mean that everybody else around me is.   The horrible events of this week are not even worth mentioning, but let’s just say that the past three days have been some of the worst ever.

When I started writing this post, I thought that it would go along the lines of how much people suck and how the universe hates me.   But as I stop to think about it, I realise that the opposite is actually true.   When life is going well, we tend to take those around us for granted.   Sure, we want to see them and hear from them, but we don’t desperately need them.   However, as soon as life begins to fall apart, that’s when we truly notice the people in our lives and how much they love us.

I don’t know how I would have got through the past few days without the support of my friends and family, and for that I am eternally grateful.   I am beginning to think that maybe the universe isn’t so twisted after all.   It gives us hardships to give us perspective about what is important in our lives, as well as to challenge us to be stronger and better people.   Now don’t get me wrong, I still think that there are some people out there who do suck, but on the whole the world is a pretty great place.   You just have to keep company with the right people to see it.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Help!


Everybody copes with stress in different ways.   Some people eat, some people sleep, some people cry, and some people stick their heads in the sand and pretend that it’s not happening.   I do all of the above.   Unfortunately, dealing with stress is not one of my strong suits and it tends to consume every aspect of my life.   This is why, dear readers, I regret to inform you that my running endeavour has taken a back seat and I haven’t put on my running shoes for over 3 weeks.   

One effect of stress that seems even more apparent than the others is that I have absolutely no energy or inclination to do anything.   Now it must be said that I have never been one of those overly-energetic people.   When I wake up in the morning, I do not leap out of bed ready to face the day.   Instead, I generally groan into my pillow and try to convince myself that I really don’t have to wash my hair that day so that I can sneak an extra 20 minutes in bed.   My idea of a great Sunday involves factoring in a goodly 2 hour afternoon nap, and if I could go to bed at 5pm every evening I would.   

After trying numerous remedies to this problem, I have been told that (to my horror) the reason that I am so tired is because I sleep too much.   How is this even possible?   Surely when a person is tired, the best thing to do is to curl up in bed and sleep it off?   But oh no, the universe has an evil sense of humour which means that I have to try and limit my sleep intake to a mere 8 hours a night.   This means no sleeping in, no afternoon naps, and no early nights.   

I have been trying this new method for a while, and it was actually helping to a small extent.   But now that life seems to be in fast-forward mode and my heart-rate is increasing with anxiety with every passing day, I am even less energetic than I was before.   When I come home, I have to force myself to stay awake and do some work – hence the dusty running shoes.   The fact that running is still a chore probably doesn’t help, but I am seriously at a loss here.   I am asking for some advice here faithful readers ... what should I do?   When life gets so busy and hectic that important things like exercise (and blogging) fall to the way-side, what is the solution?   What do you do?