TRAVEL THERE: THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU HAVE TO PUNT
Bill’s taking a nap. Our clothes are pressed and ready to wear. It’s time to do my hair and make-up. What could go wrong?
The Electrical Emergency
We’d discovered an AC/DC outlet in the bathroom as soon as we arrived. We’d been recharging our phones since then without any trouble, so I assumed I wouldn’t have any difficulty with my hair appliances.
I’d had a hair appointment hours before I got on the plane and planned to put my own hair up into a French knot, using one of those long-fingered combs that makes it a relatively easy thing to do, even for me. This particular comb had rhinestones and pearls on it, so I thought I was going to be pretty cute. We all know that slightly dirty hair is easier to put up than when it’s freshly-washed, so I was all set. The finishing touch was going to be wispy tendrils all around my face and neckline to soften the look.
While Bill took his nap, I plugged in my tendril curling iron, whipped my hair into the French knot and put on my make-up. The tendril curling iron didn’t heat up. I’ve had it for a hundred years and don’t make tendrils very often, so I laughed at myself, thinking I’d carried a broken curling iron all the way to Egypt. Not to worry, I still had a regular barreled curling iron, electric curlers and a flat iron. Surely something would work. Nada!
I began to panic. The women in the family had suggested several times that I take advantage of the hairdresser who was coming to the hotel to do their hair. The bride had her own hairdresser, but everyone else was sharing another guy. I’m funny about my hair and usually when a new person does my hair they freak me out. I end up with a bouffant larger than something from the Sixties and want nothing more than to hide until it deflates. Right then the bouffant sounded pretty good. Sure I’d gotten my hair up into the French knot, but I needed tendrils.
Just about then, Mr. Bill woke up and, as calmly as I possibly could, I told him I needed his help with an electrical emergency. First he performed all the plug-ins and plug-outs I’d already performed, but that was fine. I hoped he’d hold his tongue just right and make everything better. That didn’t happen, but we did locate another AC/DC plug next to the desk, so we tried again. This time the tendril curling iron heated right up and I thought I was set. Mr. Bill headed into the bathroom and I pulled out various wisps of hair to curl.
I picked up the curling iron and was about to curl my first tendril when I realized smoke was coming out of the barrel. I ripped the plug out of the wall and tried the next curling iron. It wasn’t behaving properly either. I attempted a few curls, but I was scared the overly-hot implements were going to melt my hair. That’s all I needed to ruin my day – melted hair for the wedding and every other event for the balance of the trip.
I tried wrapping the tendrils around my fingers and spraying them with hair spray. Nope, Lori had done entirely too good of a job making my naturally curly hair straight. I couldn’t get it to curl for the life of me.
Thankfully, I had not pulled too many tendrils out or I would have had to start all over. It would have looked like my French knot had simply come untied. My look was not complete, but I had about 15 minutes to slide into my waiting clothes and get downstairs for pictures.
As I put on my dress and accessories, I had a talk with myself. This was Mariam’s day, not mine. I was not going to let a little electrical emergency ruin it for me. I thought I looked a little more severe than I had intended, but I’d just go with it and pretend I’d wanted this very sleek look.
On to the family photo session.