Bad hair…weeks

Bad hair…weeks

There is one thing for sure, traveling does no favors to your hair. This is me, most days when I decide to unwind my hair and see how it is looking, whether its still holding onto my scalp really. And this is no joke, no exaggeration to achieve a theatrical effect and a suitable wow from you. This is the hard truth.

I am shedding like there is a big, no huge,  award for bold women at the end of it all. When I run my fingers through the mane, at the end I am holding a small animal in my hand, only its not cuddly. Or cute. And if I do this while we are out, I am left with trying to figure out what to do with the long strands of dark matter tangled through my fingers. I usually make a swift action of folding it up, wrapping it in a little package and throwing it somewhere inconspicuous. Yes, thats right, I litter with my hair. I am Gretel, leaving balls of hair throughout Asia in order to find my way home.


And I have rats nests in my hair constantly. I explain both of those phenomena by the fact that its mostly tied up and out of the way – old hairs have no way of falling out, the constant putting up is making problems – but I still do it. There is no way I am walking around with a blanket in the heat of Asia. Yes, I like my hair and yes, I like the way it looks when its down. But my vanity has limits and the blanket gets stored when the heat is eating me alive.

So, morning hair horror is part of my life right now.

But its also the only time when I get to see myself with hair, which I like, so it all kind of levels out, somewhat.

Kind of.

And…AND…I am seeing more white hairs. There is especially that one spot, behind my right ear, yikes… You know what, dahrling, better stay away from the mirror and dont touch the hair. Sheesh! said my inner voice and wrapped the hair up and rode into the distance.