The Storytellers

Storytelling is an art. A largely lost one in my experience. Especially funny storytelling. I absolutely love the three funny storytellers in my life. I am reminded of this as I have just yesterday had a funny story told to me by one of them. Seinfeld has nothing on these women. They can take a perfectly normal event, wrap it in their gift of storytelling and before you know it you're laughing hysterically. I'm talking about the kind of laughing where I am snorting like a 6 year old, tears rolling down my cheeks, can't catch my breath and ready to pee my pants. One of these women is my friend Lynn who told one story I'll never forget about a blind date she went on and the unidentifiable stink that followed them all evening. What I probably would have taken 30 seconds of paraphrasing and condensing to tell was drawn out into a wonderful 15 to 20 minute play by play that had an entire group of adult professional women laughing themselves to tears and snorting. This is a gift... and one I wish I had, if I were to wish for a gift. Taking the ordinary, breaking it down and examining it with an eye of humor. It helps me to laugh at myself because I find 'myself' in their stories of others. Another is my friend Berta who told me many a hilarious story, but only hilarious because she has the gift of storytelling and a heart with a sense of humor. My friend Lisa is the master of this gift. She could tell me about having a splinter and have me ready to pee my pants from laughing before she's done. The key is that she's willing to laugh at herself and at the absurd situations we all find ourselves in from time to time. She is innately intuitive and a student of the human condition. She sees that the things we people do are weird and funny and clumsy and sometimes just not well thought out. I won't breach any trusts with examples but I am just here to say how incredibly grateful I am that God put these people in my life. I am far too quick to take myself and everything else too seriously and not see the humor in it. Thanks to each of you for sharing your gift with me.:-)

Hot Cocoa is stylin'

Here I am in the glow of my computer screen, sporting my new haircut. The bluish cast isn't helping my complexion any, but it does highlight my 'hot cocoa' hair color. What do you think, am I ready for the holidays, or what?! As I sat in the chair of the new local organic hair salon with a girl I perceived to be about 15 years old standing behind me I was, I must say, a bit apprehensive. Being a hair stylist myself for 25 years now, I am keenly aware of what she should be doing...and not doing, and if I could sufficiently reach and see the back of my head I wouldn't have been there in the first place, one of which is telling her client all about her personal life. In the process of my 30 minute appointment (10 of which were blissfully spent with the whine of the blow dryer in my ears) I learned an incredible amount about this girl. Things I really don't need to know, but now I do. First, she's 'new here'. (Just a word of advice...never tell your clients you're new - it doesn't instill confidence.) Only been at this salon a couple of weeks, she said. She worked someplace else before (when she was fourteen). Judging by the number of clips that went in and out of my hair in the process I'd say she didn't work there long after getting out of hair dressing school. So then I find out she has 2 small kids and a husband to boot. Ok, now I know she's not 15. I hope. I won't share everything with you, you have to find your own young girl stylist for that, but let us suffice to say I could barely get a word in edgewise. Not the relaxing time away I was looking for, but I was able to encourage her to follow her husbands leading to home school her children. In between the topics of conversation and cutting my hair, she had an unfortunately distracting and ongoing battle with her cute little strapless dress, which required multiple yanks at the breast area with her free hand to stay above the horizon. I suggested maybe it wasn't cut out for , well...cutting...but it was cute with her flip-flops. I decided not to mention that she wasn't cutting my hair on the correct angle to adjust for my side part. I didn't want to throw a rogue drum beat into her rhythm and I figured I could probably fix that later, which I did. Someday I want to be able to afford one of those salons where the stylists are actually experienced, focused on you, don't chat with their fellow stylists while they work and don't tell you anything about themselves that only family members should know. On the flip side, in all my years BEHIND the chair, I got to know way more about some of my clients than I ever thought possible. The rumor is true. Ladies will tell their hairdresser things they won't tell their therapist. They don't have therapist training in cosmetology school. If they did the haircuts would be way too expensive. In the meantime I will just try to enjoy the experience and have fun with it. And really, at least my hair is cuter than it was. What more can I ask for? Signed, Hot Cocoa