On hearing the "F" word shrieked in public, and letting someone play with my hair...

(And the winner of the signed copy of BATS is...TERESA HENSON! Yay, Teresa! Thanks for helping me inaugurate the blog, everyone! If you commented yesterday but didn't win BATS, I'll send you a signed bookmark if you send me your address. :) And stay tuned for future giveaways!)

          It struck me yesterday that I can go for whole weeks without hearing the “F” word shrieked in public, but the moment I step onto a MUNI train to go downtown it’s usually only a matter of moments before I hear it. Yesterday, as I was riding the train to go get my hair cut, there was some sort of “altercation” (that’s almost too pretty a word for what this was) between two women on the train, which began with colorful swearing and concluded with the two of them windmilling their arms at each other in a chick fight—slap slap slap slap slap—until the bus driver heaved a long-suffering sigh, stalked over, and separated them. And then he herded them off the train. He was like a superhero bus driver. The rest of us applauded.

          Ah, MUNI. Don’t go changin’.

          MUNI is such a microcosm of all of San Francisco, and that’s what I hate about it, and that’s what I love about it. For $1.50, anyone in the world can get on the train. LOL. It’s one of those things that unifies everyone who lives here in a sort of collective cheerful loathing, and like the weather, talk of MUNI is an instant icebreaker. We all ride it.

          Anyway, so I went downtown and got a haircut. It was nice to do something purely physical and in service of my vanity—LOL—since I just finished a book and I’ve been burrowed into the psyches of all my characters. I wear all of the characters around like a series of second skins for weeks to try to get everything right—what are they feeling, thinking, seeing in this moment? How is the room lit, what details do they notice? How do I put this into the perfect words to capture the moment, move the story along? Am I spelling and punctuating and structuring the sentences properly as I do this? LOL. You do have to kind of feel and think and see on behalf of everyone in a book, and it's as if a whole crowd of other people have temporarily borrowed my mind and heart and thoroughly used both of them. It's like I need an exorcism when it's all over.

          Sitting slack-jawed in a chair and letting someone play with my hair seemed like just the ticket. LOL.

          Hair salons are adorable in some ways. I love mine. It’s in a big sunny loft on Powell Street, and though it’s quite the hipster place, and definitely not cheap, the clientele, men and women, are all different ages and from all walks of life, from groovy youngsters getting their hair elaborately spiked to older women getting their eyebrows dyed. It's a friendly place—no attitude from anyone, and you feel very welcome there, and they play the best music. LOL. Yesterday it was The Who, specifically the entire Who Are You? record. Great songs. And I love half-spying on people as they sit in salon chairs and point to their hair and fuss with it, looking mostly a wee bit vulnerable and self-conscious as they try to explain to their stylists how they want to look. We all have our measure of vanity. And I love watching how everybody leaves the salon looking brand new and with a spring in their step. I've had the same stylist for a decade, and she's the coolest—smart and funny and down-to-earth, and I've never had a bad haircut. From her. From other places, before I found this salon...boy, I've had some doozies. Ever had a haircut that made you weep? That convinced you that your boyfriend would immediately break up with you? LOL. Well, it was a long time ago, but I did indeed get that haircut. I looked like an artichoke.

          So how about anyone out there? Where do you get your hair cut? Have you gone to the same place for years? Ever had a reaaaaalllly bad haircut? How long has it been since you've dramatically changed your hair?

Comments

[Donna S.]

My sister cuts my hair, and she does a great job, since it's a basic parted down the middle style. But I've had the same haircut for years. It might hurt her feelings if I go to someone else! I'd kind of like to try something new, though. It's a dilemma.

[Corey]

I've been going to the same woman to get my hair cut for years. She's not cheap, either, but I really like my hair. The last person I went to practically ruined it. I wanted highlights, and I got like these orange stripes!!!! Sometimes I think y ou get what you pay for.

[Melissa B.]

Oh, c'mon Julie. You're a writer. Surely you've had plenty of occasions for using the F word. :)

[Julie Anne Long]

LOL, Melissa! Ah, yes, the "F" word is indeed a satisfying and integral part of my vocabulary, but I use it judiciously. Or I like to think I do, anyway. My computer probably hears it the most from me, I think.

[Ranurgis]

Julie, I love artichokes. Can't have been too bad.

Unfortunately, from the time I got my first haircut until now, when I'm...uh, never mind...I've never had a haircut that was something *I* could handle by myself. I once remarked to somebody that a haircut like Halle Berry's wouldn't be bad. But then that someone had to remind me that Halle probably has a stylist who does her hair every day.

I've got very fine, thin, oily hair. Freshly washed every day it looks OK. But...my hands are so bad that I just can't manage to do it every day and still expect to do anything else like use the computer. Besides, my plumbing here is terrible. I suppose I could slip up front every day to the beauty salon and have them do it, but I hardly have the money to pay the rent never mind get my hair done once a month. The worst cut was definitely one in Germany when they took me at my word and cut my hair short, really short and I definitely looked like a boy. After I saw my niece a few weeks after she'd had her head completely shorn (she was president of the student body and said that if the kids raised more than $X she'd go bald) I thought she looked really cute. But then, I think your head has to be shaped right too, so I gave up thinking I should try that at my age.

That's me: weird figure, strange hair, weird coloring, problematic feet. Yep, the only thing I had was at least half a brain. And now my mind's going too. Sigh.

I'm sorry I missed your blog come-out. I guess I wouldn't have won the book but it would have been nice to try. Did I mention that I found "To Love a Thief" about a week ago? But I wouldn't mind winning an autographed copy if the opportunity arises. And I still have to even see a copy of "The Runaway Duke".

It's really enjoyable to find out more about 'Frisco. I entered a contest for the Reggae Festival. But unfortunately, I never seem to win most of the contests I enter.

[Julie Anne Long]

Glad you found the blog, Ranurgis! :) I seldom win anything, either, but I do keep trying. LOL. I'm glad you found THIEF! Hope you enjoy it. Some day, hopefully, you'll find DUKE. There are a lot of them out there. LOL. And your discussion of head shapes made me laugh, because my sister swears mine is shaped like a yam. That's what sisters are for: to keep you humble.

[Candice Hern]

Julie and I go to the same hair salon, so I can vouch for its coolness. And I absolutely LOVE Joseph, my hairdresser. You'd think short hair would be easy, but I'm here to tell you that it's not. I've endured a few horrific haircuts in my day, but I've mostly kept to the same short short style for decades. In point of fact, Joseph does something very subtly different with each cut, but not so's anyone, but me, would notice.

Love the blog, Julie. It looks GORGEOUS!

[Julie Anne Long]

And from where I sit in Jean's chair, Candice, I frequently have a wonderful view of Joseph's butt as she turns me this way and that, and I can assure everyone it's a magnificent little thing.

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