a wild hare

Officially I'm past due for a haircut. But I've decided to skip it for now. The main reason is, I confess, my ego.

This is why: a few weeks ago, I washed my hair before heading to Chez Ian*, but didn't have time to dry it. So I packed my hair styling stuff and left my house with a wet head. To make matters even worse, I drove with the top down on my car because if was one of those perfect, 72F degree days.

When I got to Ian's house, I expected to be teased about my hair, which had dried into its usual mass of messy curls. Instead, Ian said how much he liked my hair, and why didn't I wear it that way more often? "Silly wabbit," he said**. So I left it the way it was.

After dinner, he got into this odd little mood where he couldn't keep his hands out of my hair - a tactile fascination that was quite pleasant, especially when he pushed back my hair to expose the back of my neck (a highly erogenous area) and gently bit it.

The following week, I decided to take his advice and wore my untamed hair to work. I was surprised by the number of compliments paid to my hair. This took a bit of getting used to, as I was initially embarrassed and kept thinking that my hair needed a good ironing. I was constantly tempted to tie it back with a ribbon, which I did a couple of times. But now I'm cool with it.

* See Key to Characters at right.

** This nickname was derived from two sources:  Madeleine Kahn's wonderful Dietrich parody in the film Blazing Saddles, and a scene from Kill Bill Vol. 1.