Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Wednesday is "No Hitter" Day.

No hitter-a baseball term for a game in which one side fails to make a hit, first attested 1948;

In baseball, when a pitcher has a no-hitter going on, no one talks about it. Typically it doesn't become apparent what is transpiring until the 4th or 5th inning. It is only then that suddenly it becomes real that this athletic feat might become a reality.

And then when people think you might have a chance at this miracle of miracles, the tension mounts. 

With every pitch, the amount of sucking in breaths heightens.

When another hitless inning occurs, fans glance at each other.

They realize without a word the magnitude of what they might witness.

It is the ultimate elephant in the room.

This situation is analogous to my hair situation.

Yes, I went there. I don't even know why half of you are surprised.

About a week ago, I realized that if I was ever going to find a good hairdresser that I had to go the mattresses to do it. (Going to the mattresses by the way, means going to war in Godfather terms for those of you who live under a rock.)

I had to infiltrate how the best pitchers or haircuts came to be.

So I went straight to the source, the common college girl. It is no secret that when in college, girls are at their most experimental of phases with their hair because they view it as the last time they can be. I know. I used to be that college girl.

I sought out one of my classmates that went to U of M for undergrad and she sent me to the salon of choice.

Then I did the next phase of a no-hitter. I made sure that the girl I was going to knew what she was talking about like another no-hitter pitcher would. I made sure she could talk shop. I call it shooting the bull.

And lastly, I took on the roll of the fan. Now, no matter what team you root for, when you're in the middle of a no-hitter situation, you keep your comments to yourself. This has only happened 269 times in Major League Baseball. So because my hair was on the line, I didn't mention it on twitter or here no matter how much I wanted to gab about my nerves. This was serious business.

And y'all!!!!!!!!!!!

It totally worked!!

I have found a new hairstylist!!

Maybe a you know what that serves you know what kind of ice in their fabulous you know what kind of cups in my neck of the woods isn't too far behind after all!

Hope this finds you well on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

Happy Wednesday!

1 comment:

Domesticated-Bliss said...

I'm totally laughing out loud reading this post! I absolutely identify with your quest :)

It took me 3 years to find my pitcher when I moved to Jacksonville!

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Hi y'all! The name's Samantha. You can call me Sam if you like. I am a lover to a boy I met at Falls Creek in the summer of 2005, that is a student of Jesus, a Sooner born and Sooner bred and when I die I'll be Sooner dead, Democrat by party, blonde to the core, and oldies but goodies kind of girl.
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