Less on Top
I shaved my head this morning. I did not shave it bald.
Well I didn’t personally do it. My rather gorgeous hair cutting lady did it. I hate my hair. Always have. It’s thin. It blows in whatever direction the wind is blowing and will often stay in some obnoxious shape after the wind dies down.
If I had thick hair I would purposefully put it into obnoxious shapes because that would be fun. But with thin hair it’s not fun or manageable.
I decided to go ahead and shave it because of a big race I have this weekend. You can imagine what my hair looks like after I’ve run seven miles.
With no personal grooming needed in the mornings I will have more time to sleep. Five or 10 extra minutes in my bed can feel like an hour on some mornings. Unless there is orange juice in my fridge….then I can get up easier without those extra few minutes lingering over me.
I had a friend in town recently. He stayed a few nights at my house. He is obsessed with an iron. You wouldn’t think this about the guy, but he gets it from his mom. Everything in her life is perfect. She is the ‘Bree Vandecamp’ of my life (Desperate Housewives). I’ve known this guy since 6th grade. I was the new kid in school. He was not. I was the skinny blonde bucktooth kid who sat at the desk with my name on it. This guy comes in on the first day of school and yells at me to get out of his seat. I pointed out that my name was perfectly written on the nametag to which he notices we have the same first name. He mumbled something and walked to find his own desk further back in the classroom. We became friends a few years later.
This guy irons his clothes everyday before work. I once pointed out that he should try ironing the night before he goes to work. You would have thought I was a stupid idiot for suggesting such easy ideas. You would have thought I cussed him out. I don’t remember his exact excuse but he was no longer interested in hearing my advice at that moment.
Each morning before we left my house my friend would iron his shirt until it looked perfect. I caught him once ironing his undershirt. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I saw that. I have never seen such a thing. I have never heard of such a thing. I began to wonder if he irons his socks and underwear. I refrained from asking. After all since he was so handy with the iron I threw a few things at him to iron for me. I didn’t want to upset him with my sarcastic questions if he was willing to iron for me. I learned that if your undershirt is pressed then it won’t show thru your freshly ironed dress shirt. Otherwise you can tell if someone hasn’t ironed their undershirt. I understood the point, but still looked down on my friend and laughed at him.
He left in the middle of last week to go back home. I found myself one evening preparing to go out with some friends after he left town. I picked out a rather wrinkled shirt and turned on the iron and waited a few minutes. Before I laid my dress shirt on the ironing board I thought of my friend and quickly took off my undershirt and ironed it out. I felt stupid but was curious. After getting dressed and preparing to head out I realized how great my undershirt felt.
I have ironed my undershirts four different times since my friend left. I think I might be addicted. Maybe now with no hair to mess with in the morning I’ll have a few more minutes to iron my socks and underwear.
Well I didn’t personally do it. My rather gorgeous hair cutting lady did it. I hate my hair. Always have. It’s thin. It blows in whatever direction the wind is blowing and will often stay in some obnoxious shape after the wind dies down.
If I had thick hair I would purposefully put it into obnoxious shapes because that would be fun. But with thin hair it’s not fun or manageable.
I decided to go ahead and shave it because of a big race I have this weekend. You can imagine what my hair looks like after I’ve run seven miles.
With no personal grooming needed in the mornings I will have more time to sleep. Five or 10 extra minutes in my bed can feel like an hour on some mornings. Unless there is orange juice in my fridge….then I can get up easier without those extra few minutes lingering over me.
I had a friend in town recently. He stayed a few nights at my house. He is obsessed with an iron. You wouldn’t think this about the guy, but he gets it from his mom. Everything in her life is perfect. She is the ‘Bree Vandecamp’ of my life (Desperate Housewives). I’ve known this guy since 6th grade. I was the new kid in school. He was not. I was the skinny blonde bucktooth kid who sat at the desk with my name on it. This guy comes in on the first day of school and yells at me to get out of his seat. I pointed out that my name was perfectly written on the nametag to which he notices we have the same first name. He mumbled something and walked to find his own desk further back in the classroom. We became friends a few years later.
This guy irons his clothes everyday before work. I once pointed out that he should try ironing the night before he goes to work. You would have thought I was a stupid idiot for suggesting such easy ideas. You would have thought I cussed him out. I don’t remember his exact excuse but he was no longer interested in hearing my advice at that moment.
Each morning before we left my house my friend would iron his shirt until it looked perfect. I caught him once ironing his undershirt. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I saw that. I have never seen such a thing. I have never heard of such a thing. I began to wonder if he irons his socks and underwear. I refrained from asking. After all since he was so handy with the iron I threw a few things at him to iron for me. I didn’t want to upset him with my sarcastic questions if he was willing to iron for me. I learned that if your undershirt is pressed then it won’t show thru your freshly ironed dress shirt. Otherwise you can tell if someone hasn’t ironed their undershirt. I understood the point, but still looked down on my friend and laughed at him.
He left in the middle of last week to go back home. I found myself one evening preparing to go out with some friends after he left town. I picked out a rather wrinkled shirt and turned on the iron and waited a few minutes. Before I laid my dress shirt on the ironing board I thought of my friend and quickly took off my undershirt and ironed it out. I felt stupid but was curious. After getting dressed and preparing to head out I realized how great my undershirt felt.
I have ironed my undershirts four different times since my friend left. I think I might be addicted. Maybe now with no hair to mess with in the morning I’ll have a few more minutes to iron my socks and underwear.
posted by Mr. T at 9:50 AM
9 Comments:
You've crossed over to the other side. Now that you know how great an ironed undershirt feels you'll never go back. No, I do not iron socks or underwear.
I think our gma used to iron socks & underwear. I know lots of people that iron their jeans, which to me is just as crazy as ironing underwear.
I try to iron NOTHING.
He sounds pretty anal retentive about things....all the more reason to set him up with my sister :) PS. I need to see your shaved head
yeah, please post a picture of your new hair. and by the way, i bought an iron two years ago when i moved up to ny and have never used it. i prefer to spray downy's "wrinkle releaser" and be on my way.
If you ever get into money laundering, don't forget to iron it, too! You'll never go back to carrying wrinkled bills!
That's funny that you refer to your hairstylist as your 'rather gorgeous hair cutting lady'. There was a really funny King of Queens episode on that where Doug has a hot hair stylist & Carrie has a hot trainer:)
I remember the 'Iron King' having his iron out at a moments notice when you all used to live with each other in the apt. with the red wall (wait, maybe that was the one after that).
Oh...please, don't let it get to the socks and underwear, I might have to really start worrying. But I'm just jealous cause I wish I was better at ironing (and more motivated to do it). :)
The "friend" was telling me this same story of how he helped you to find the error in your ways, and kept touching his chest like he just couldn't help himself. Iron your shirt, don't iron your shirt; whatever. Just don't start touching your chest.
Sounds like you guys had a good time. See you soon?
Hey Matt, I didn't know you had a blog! I just saw it on Ryan & Katie's blog. Anyway, I hope all is well with you! We sure do miss you up here, are you coming back soon? Will & I are looking into coming to Kelly's wedding though I don't think it will work. Anyway, is your ironing friend a red head? I only iron the things I have to, I can't imagine having to iron all of Will's undershirts, I wouldn't have time for anything else! I enjoyed reading your blog! Wendy M.
Post a Comment
<< Home