Who Does A Girl Need to Blow

by

To get a date around here?

Wait.

Uh.

That didn’t quite come out like I meant it.

When can a girl get her Brazilian blow out so she can get a date up in here?

Yeah.

That’s what I meant.

Kinda.

The first might be applicable too.

Heh.

Come on.

It’s spring!

And.

It’s hot up in here.  It hit 90 degrees today.  Although my phone refused to update the temperature until half the day was through.

Listen I am not stupid and it did not feel like 77 degrees, it was hotter than that, I know it was.

Then at the last-minute, there it was, 90.

It hit 90.

Whew.

I cannot remember the last time I was in San Francisco and it hit 90 degrees in May.

It was hotter than yesterday for sure, but I was more prepared for it, mentally, physically, who knows, wardrobe was about the same, but I was ready and I was also better prepared for my charge.

I had plans to.

Plans that had the old kabosh put right on them.

The scooter did not start again.

Sigh.

Double sigh.

I am still convinced that it is something small, some little thing I am over looking, but I was supposed to take it in to see the guy that’s done the majority of the work on it to fix the fender today–which I have been adequately informed is cosmetic and should be no problem.

The problem, again, I believe is me.

But, I was prepared for the possibility that the scooter wouldn’t start and had given myself a lot of leeway in case I had to hop on my bicycle, which is what happened.

The ride, though hot, was not too bad and I made it with five minutes to spare, enough time to stop sweating, mop my brow, park my bike in the garage and be ready to take on the day.

Which was made infinitely easier when I found out I had access to a better stroller than I have been using–one with a better canopy for my boy and also one with a rotating front wheel and a high bar–a City Bob.

God I love a good jogging stroller.

I have no desire to be one of those tight pants ladies in the park running furiously along the pathways in Golden Gate Park, stopping to jump up and down on the planters and do squat lunges in front of the carousel while their children look with longing at the hot dog vendor dispensing popcorn sacks and sodas.

Nope.

However, a good jogging stroller is fantastic for the out and about of a busy nanny.

Ie, me.

I like to get out with my boys and girl, tomorrow’s Thursday, I shall see my little girl pie, and go to the parks and walk and do adventures and have field trips, and man, it’s so much easier with a good stroller.

So, chalk one up for the day getting better even though the scooter didn’t start.

What did start today?

The water got turned on at the Mission Pool and Playground!

I was there minutes after the city DPW came in and turned on the water main that feeds the sprinkler park in the front playground that faces Valencia Street.

Heaven.

I got the bunny out of the stroller, took off his shoes, took off my shoes, pranced in and out of the mists and sprinklers, dipped his toes in the puddles, danced around, stomped our feet and basically had a giggle fest.

Seriously.

And I get paid for this.

Helps on the days when I don’t have a break for the whole day or the teething is bad or the babe is sick or something wonky happens and I can’t sit, days like today really help.

I remember the days like today as well, better than the bad days for sure, when I am being goofy, seeing my toenails a bright painted red, bare feet in the spray and the sun and the mist throwing little rainbows about my face and arms.

The news flash-fired through the neighborhood and within twenty minutes of the water main being turned on, the park was mobbed.

But I got mine.

And so did my little guy, he had a blast.

I couldn’t really take photos with my phone, but the giggles are impressed upon my heart.  I won’t forget those giggles ever.

Balm on my soul.

The walk back up the hill with the stroller was interrupted by a return phone call I had made while my charge had been napping earlier, it was Solid Gold, my hair people.

“When was the last time you were in,” my friend Calvin asked, “it’s been awhile hasn’t it?”

Um.

Yeah.

Five months, maybe six.

He looked up my file in the computer system, “nine months!”

Oops.

I knew I needed to come in, but I hadn’t expected to be in the chair tonight.

The plan had been I would be riding the scooter up there, the mechanic is next door to the salon, and then I would be making an appointment in person.

Cut and color.

I would give you a preview, but we decided to not show our hand too soon.

Gonna get a little crazy up in here.

Just saying.

So, when the scooter was not running today I had to make the call into the salon to set up the appointment.  The receptionist got me in this evening for stage one.

Yup.

First the cut.

The the color.

Then the next set of color.

Then the Brazilian Blow Out.

I am going full on.

It helps when I have been going to them for a while, they treat me special and I refer every single person to them I can, I love my friends and their small business, go friends!

Calvin’s partner, Diane, is my colorist.

We had us a little talk and the total time it’s going to take to do the color is six hours.

Six!

Mwahahahahaha.

I cannot wait.

It’s going to be crazy good.

She’s going to break it up into two segments.

Then to seal the color we are going to do a Brazilian Blow out.

“You know, you get laid when we do you hair,” Calvin joked with me.

“Shit, you’re right,” I smiled, it has been about nine months.

Fuck.

“It’s on!  You’ll be beating them back with sticks,” he added.

Good.

Been too damn long.

I am ready.

Let’s get this party started.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: