Bad Hair Day

I am vain. This comes as no surprise to any of you, I'm sure. I've said it before and I'll say it again--I already have enough of the 7 deadly sins covered that I’m not about to start pumping the brakes when it comes to vanity. Vanity which was put to the test yesterday after a very unfortunate incident. I always knew it was bound to happen one day, but that doesn't make it any less painful or any less surprising. No matter what you read in magazines, or what you see on TV, it's just one of those things no one can prepare you for.

My hairdryer died.

(please pause for a moment of silence)

The morning started out like any other morning, with no sign of the tragedy that was ahead of me. I hopped out of bed bright and chipper. Got a quick workout in, and then jumped in the shower for a refreshing cleanse. Then I slapped on some makeup, combed some volumizing foam through my roots, grabbed my handy round brush and my trusty hairdryer---the only two styling tools I use--flipped the switch...and FAIL. Nothing but a light stream of cold air came out. Not even enough to dry my hair, let alone style it.

I had a brief fit of panic, wondering if I had enough time to run to Target to get a new hairdryer, get back home in time to finish styling my hair, and still make it to work on time. Yeah right, I realized looking at the clock and cursing Matt Lauer and his boy-next-door charm for sucking me into at least 20 minutes of mindless Today show watching. So I considered my two options--I could easily salvage my soaking strands by putting them in a ponytail, or throwing them into a sassy updo. I was grabbing for the bobby pins when a third option started creeping its way into my wet head:

I could do nothing.

I could just let my hair air dry, leave it down, go to work, and spend all day with it completely unstyled.

"NO WAY IN HELL!" my vanity cried out in terror, while also assessing that I needed more eyeliner.

But option 3 was already winning out as I decided to put my vanity to the test and embrace the death of my hairdryer as an opportunity for a little humility. So out the door I went--wet head and all--ready to face the day and test my vanity with my self-prescribed bad hair day. (But not before wrapping a rubberband around my wrist first--just in case.)

And because I know you'd all be curious to see, here you go--my bad hair day in all its glory!


As you can see, the right side is doing some frizzy sticking out thing, while the back alternates between flipped in, flipped out, flipped left, and flipped right. And the right side? I can't even talk about the right side. I think it's trying to morph into The Rachel. And did I mention that the top was all crusty because I had put hair product in before realizing my dryer had died? Yeah, that was sexy.

Well I'm happy to report that I made it through the entire day without breaking down and using my emergency rubberband. It also bears mentioning that I didn't get teased by my co-workers. I didn't receive any weird looks from strangers, small children, or their animals. Traffic did not come to a screeching halt when I drove past. And I wasn't even photographed unflatteringly by paparazzi! And the craziest thing of all--the sun came up this morning and the world is still spinning on its axis. Which means I successfully and officially made it through my bad hair day!

My vanity has passed the test and will now be rewarded with a new hairdryer. Got any recommendations for us?