rotini hair

A friend sends me a video of him spiking a volleyball and I tell him he’s so cool. His response of the smug emoticon with sunglasses is a testament to how uncool he actually is. In the lovely, casual manner all teenage tête-à-têtes have, our conversation contingently shifts to his hair. Curious, I ask what his hair care routine is. See, his sprouting curls resemble a bowl of rotini and there ought to be a refined ritual to keep the head of pasta in al dente condition. 

To my dismay, he says he doesn’t have one. He mentions how when he aimed for straight hair, he followed a tedious hair care routine. But now his all natural approach allowing his curls to see the light of day and spares him of extra upkeep. I think of the hours I spent burning curls into my hair with a hot, iron rod because people with straight hair inevitably want curly locks, and curly-haired individuals stare wistfully at straight hair. Quoting from Murphy’s Tenth Law, “mother nature is a bitch.”

Sometimes when I come to a revelation, I like to divulge my secret anecdotes about life to the person who inspired the thought. I tell him how deep his previous remark is because it shows us that once we stop our relentless pursuit for what we don’t have, only then will we truly feel contentment and gratitude for all we’ve been given. He sends another sunglasses emoji in response, so I toss the phone aside and continue on with my day.

– julie