bad hair day number three.

my hair has a mind of its own - and a mulish, willful, malicious mind at that. today i had to suffer tendrils pointing at all the directions on the compass, and some more. i'v tried oil, serum and prayers. nothing works. my own personal purgatory.

the day i wash my hair, i have to walk around with the disquieting feeling that a voluminous, dark, hairy cloud is following me about. i quite literally feel under the cloud on shampoo days.

the next day is worse. much, much worse. then, i look like medusa. (not so bad, eh? rather a glamorous ol'girl, i always thought.)

life would not have been so difficult, inspite of all this if i were not cursed with a pest of a brother who thinks it is funny to take potshots at my crowning glory.