Top Notch Top Knot Not

Have I mentioned how HOT it is here? It’s so hot, I’ve had to make a few changes in my routine.

These days, we go for our morning walk around the Capitol building at 8:00 a.m. to take advantage of shade from the trees as well as the shade of some of the state office buildings. Hopefully there will still be a morning breeze, but this is not always the case. No afternoon walk anymore; it’s just too blisteringly painful.

Just before leaving my cubicle, I’ve also started putting my hair up in a top knot, getting it off my neck. It’s so much cooler that way. I call it my Frau Blücher look, from Young Frankenstein.

For the first couple of times I tried the top knot, most of it escaped during our walk and was hanging down my neck anyway. By the time we got back to the office, I somewhat resembled Cindy Lou Who’s grandmother.

After a few attempts, I doubled the amount of bobby pins and that seemed to help. I try to remember to look in a mirror before I leave for one last chance to fix it up a bit so that I don’t scare the squirrels while out and about.

When I get back to my cubicle, I eventually go to the women’s restroom to comb it out. This is when I discover that arranging my own hair is not my strong point.

I turn the corner into the women’s restroom and am so surprised at what I see in the mirror that I just stand there for a few seconds. My Frau Blücher knot has slid over and down a noticeable distance on the left side. I’m reminded of Igor’s hump (that’s Eye-gor, to you), only smaller, and, well, frizzier.

I wonder when that started and if it was that way for the whole walk. Was I imagining it when I thought the squirrels were a little more evasive today?

Oh, fine. I decide to redo it and leave it up in a top knot because I was going to run an errand and lunch and knew it would still be hot then.

And here comes the déjà vu part: after lunch, when I go to the women’s room, I am so surprised at what I see in the mirror that I just stand there for a few seconds. My Frau Blücher knot has slid over and down a noticeable distance, only on the right side this time. Now I’m definitely reminded of Igor’s migrating hump (that’s Eye-gor, to you).

I decide that I’ve just about had enough of that and I’m going to comb it out. (Note: when my mother said she’d “just about had enough of” something, she really meant that my brother and I had already crossed the “enough” line and it was way too late to stop whatever we were doing in order not to be noticed.)

Only combing it out isn’t the answer anymore. In taking down my hair, I find that it has been in the top knot long enough that it has squiggles where it was twisted and pinned. The crinkles are in all the wrong places, in a Ruffles Have Ridges style, and make my hair look like it is some alien extension of my eyebrows. Well, that’s not going to work, I think, so up my hair goes, back into the top knot.

I console myself with the idea that off-center top knots really do have a long history. Take the Terra Cotta Warriors, for example. I saw some of them recently at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. Wonderful exhibit. They are over 2,000 years old and lots of their top knots are off-center (and I don’t think it’s just because they were returning from their morning walk). Maybe I’m a reincarnated Terra Cotta Warrior, possibly an archer.

Maybe, just maybe, I can get my weirdo hairdo to work in my favor. I’m going to practice putting up two off-center top knots, one on each side (at the top of the curves of my head, not over the ears like Princess Leia), dye my hair pink and show up for the casting call for extras for the next Hellboy movie. Maybe I can play a long lost distant cousin or something. Hey, it could happen.


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