Hair

I like blaming things on the South. In fact, one of the driving forces behind this blog is my tendency to blame things on the south. And sometimes, I like to think, my claims are not completely outlandish. Such as the fact that my students simply cannot handle open questions on a midterm, because their teachers are so focused on getting Georgia out of that #48 spot on competency tests, all they seem to do throughout the school year is work on perfecting their students' multiple choice taking skills. Or the fact that the road to our house is flooded once again, which can only blamed on the southern tendency to deluges as well as the southern inability to build sewage and drainage systems that work. But, in spite of all that sensibility, I do realize that sometimes I might go a teensy bit overboard. Just a tad. And I have a slight inkling that today could possibly be one of those days.

You see, my hairdo is just terrible today. It really is. And whose fault is that? Well, since I feel especially magnanimous today, I am going to extend the blame to the entire United States. Now please don't take this as a sign of anti-anything-ism. I love this country as much as the next person, really. But why on earth can't y'all just switch to 220V? And while we're at it, what's up with inches? Twelve to a foot? I mean, really?

But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that if this country ran on 220V like all the other sensible countries in the world, then my hair would not be in the state it is right now.

It started off very innocently, when I realized this morning that I simply had to wash my hair. Usually I was my hair at night, and let it dry overnight (for some reason, my hair is easiest to manage after having been tossed around a pillow all night), but last night I forgot. So this morning I shampood and conditioned my now uncontrollable mane of hair (I call it the price you pay for not getting it trimmed since March), and then decided I really should blowdry it. You see, I may have really straight and fine hair, I also have LOTS of it. And I mean LOTS and LOTS. Lots, as in if I don't blowdry it, it will still be wet come lunchtime. So I pulled out my old American hairdryer and went at it. Went is the right word here, because about thirty seconds after I turned it on, it went out. And would not come back on. Fortunately, Dixiechick is not one to be held down for long, because I quickly realized I still had a European hairdryer hidden under the bathroom sink somewhere. That coupled with the presence of a sturdy converter in the corner of our bedroom reassured me that I would not be dealing with wet, long hair for long. Although it did mean crouching down in between the TV and dog's crate, and fending off the inappropriate moves put on by the plant next to the converter, I happily plugged in my hairdryer, turned on the converter, and waited for the hot air to come on. And waited. And waited. And waited. And then realized that my dinky old Dutch hairdryer had blown the fuse on the converter, effectively ruining any opportunity in the next few days of watching my Dutch DVDs as well as decimating my chances at going anywhere with dry hair that day.

And no, this is not my fault. Is there any reason to think a goodness-how-high-amount-of-wattage converter could not handle my bitty Dutch hairdryer? Of course not! Sheesh. It's America's fault. Why do they have to be different once again? If they had 220V like the rest of us, I would not have had to struggle with an elastic band and bobby pins for ten minutes, trying to get my hair into a decent ponytail without scraggly bits of hair going every which way.

So I'm going to give you all a choice here. Either switch to 220V or buy me a new hairdryer. Thanks.