This is for all of you out there that are like me and are both blessed/cursed with thick, long hair that hangs to your waist in a tangled mess.
The beginning of new chapter in a Fanfiction you have uploaded online brings about the inevitable battle between us and the ever unbeaten hair tie. When writing, we like to tie our hair back, because while we love it, when writing it becomes little more than a hindrance. And thus the search begins.
At first it begins small. Our room, the computer table, under the bed, in the draws and anywhere else we might have dropped it in a unthinking act of carelessness. It soon becomes apparent that the hairband is not going to be found in our room and the search both continues and spreads throughout the household until the house that we recently cleaned and got in order has been reduced to nothing more than an undignified mess that resembles a bombsite.
And still we have not found one bloody tie for our hair. We know we have them. We have hundreds of them, because every time we go shopping we buy a new pack to replace the ones we have misplaced. And the cycle continues. It’s as though these tiny rings of elastic and gathered string are holding a personal vendetta against us.
We know, logically, that this is insane.
They are inanimate objects and not evil devises sent by Satan to torture us.
However, a small part of our brain refuses to accept this logic and demands retribution for the $5. 95 we spent on that packet of hair ties that have mysteriously disappeared.
Logic be damned!
These things that we bought to hold back our hair so that we could type without having to squint threw a veil of bangs, are determined to not be of use despite that being their sole purpose of existence. It's obvious we are not going to find one and soon possible substitutions come into play.
Substitutions we already know aren’t going to work because we have tried them all before the last chapter, but somehow find ourselves believing they might work this time simply because, well, because.
First, it’s the rubber band that we get on our mail. Some snap, others get so tangled in our hair they need to be cut out and thus they are quickly striked off the ‘maybe’ list.
You try an arrangement of bobby clips and pins but after an hour your arms are numb and your hair is looking like something out of a home-made ‘thriller’ clip and so that idea too, is marked improbable. The search continues, from things like random lengths of string to the paper ties that we use for our freezer bags.
By the time you are done pulling apart your house and brutalizing your hair to the point of it falling out, your chapter has been all but forgotten and your beta is starting to believe you have died. You have angry reviews wondering where the hell you are and any idea for the chapter you might have had, has all but fled along with your confidence.
Defeated, you sit down with your writers aid (For me, redbull and a block of chocolate) and begin the grueling task of typing one handed while trying to sweep your hair out of your face every two seconds.
You work on the new chapter day and night, guilt ridden, until it is complete.
Then, with a sense of relief you send it off to be beta’d and head to toilet. Because once you sit down with the determination to get a chapter done, chances are you won’t be moving for hours.
And that’s when you see it. Sitting innocently enough of the edge of the bath is your lost hair tie.
The one that you always seem to find and no other.
You twitch.
The one place you didn’t think to look. The very same place it had been the last time you tore apart your house looking for it.
Your neighborhood echoes with the sounds of your outraged curses and for the next month you have angry mothers glaring at you on sight, totting a two year old spewing out random curses you are sure sound vaguely familiar.
It’s a never ending cycle!
And it’s a battle you will always loose.
You end up with hair clipped short, in ragged tuffs with no fringe. It’s a look you are sure will catch on with your fellow writers. Even if you never see it on anyone but yourself, tucked safely away under a cap you had no idea you had.
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Fap, She be Lurking gaia since 2oo4