La la la la la Jesse's Girl....

Okay, so I deluded myself yesterday. A common occurrence, but this time I hit the mother load of denial and deliberate delusion. For years my best friend has relentlessly and ruthlessly - alright not so ruthless as she is a mushball with a finely crafted illusion of toughness - serenaded me, in her fine warbling voice, with strains of "Jesse's Girl" because she seems to be under the impression that 1 photo I mistakenly showed her of me remained her of Rick - frickin-Springfield.

For years, I thought she was severely in need of medication. Okay she IS in need of medication for other various reasons, but this one was the Big Kahuna. How can one defend HERSELF when she is being told she looks like an 80's MALE soap opera star cum singer? I had nuthin. My brain seized every time she would belt out the chorus at me. My brain's ability to generate any kind of snarky response was instantaneously thwarted by the cryptonite contained in the simple words of: "You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl. I wish that I had Jessie's girl.." It was like some sick cosmic force just clamped my mouth shut and only allowed my brain to perfom the basic -keep your body alive-functions. Our usual quick and witty banter was reduced to me being practically apoplectic and doing the thorazine shuffle all at the same time.

Well, as some of you know, I cut my hair completely off soon after moving to Finland. Beth has some long hippy flowerchild thick blonde hair (damn her!) and I had long,dark, not so thick -and liberally dusted with white (including the Cruella DeVille streak in the front) hair. Ponytails and baseball caps in the summer just to keep my body from getting overheated was a common occurance. Beth washes her hair and it takes a frickin whole day (and sometimes more) to even get REMOTELY dry. Hair to your ass has that unfortunate side effect.

So I decided recently that I would forgo the buzzer and actually let my hair grow back a bit. Call me crazy, but I sort of missed the weight of it. Anywhozywhatsit, even though I am growing it back, it is still required to visit the hairdresser to get it trimmed so that I don't end up with a photo on the mullet website. Yesterday I went. I even had most of the white dyed out but kept the DeVille streak because, frankly, it is cool and what's more I LIKE it. The hairdresser proceeds to do a fabulous job and then blow it dry all poofy like. If you know me, poofy hair on me went out in the 80's--along with the Aquanet hairspray, pegged jeans, Champion sweatshirt and penny loafers. When I looked in the mirror I just smiled. Not out of politeness, but just because I couldn't believe what I saw. I was transported back in time to when every girl wanted the Dorothy Hammel. I am not kidding. I can still remember my Dorothy Hammel skating doll. Any cracks about that folks and you will have stumps for limbs. There was NOTHING wrong with having a Dorothy Hammel doll (sort of in the tradition of the Barbie but she was on her skates and stood in this lovely stand)..

I was so impressed that I looked like her that I even emailed K and told her so. I was all about the haircut. Fastforward to this morning after taking the time to blow dry the hair and put some product in it, I promptly slammed my motorcycle helmet on my head and went to work. Remove Helmet and BAM.....LALALALALALA Jesse's Girl...... DAMN YOU SUG!! You are 10 bizillion miles and 345626 timezones away and you STILL got me to suffer apoplexy!!!