Thursday, December 3, 2009

Laughter Really Is the Best Medicine

When I was on my 4 day, child free, woman only getaway last month, we went to a very popular restaurant for a late breakfast. Imagine 13 boisterous women at a very long table in a small room. To say it was loud is an understatement. We laughed and talked and had such a great time that we ran off an older couple sitting at a table nearby. They literally asked to be moved because we were so loud. When we were finished eating, I went to the bathroom and passed a table with seven women in the main dining room. They were prim and proper and very sedate and as I walked by I thought to myself "Thank God I'm not at that table."

Yesterday, I went and got my hair done, part of the continuation of "It's all about me" phase. (More accurately it should be "more about me"  but I like the sound of "all about me" so I'm sticking to it.) It had been awhile since I'd been and I had some wicked roots going on.  The salon I go to is the one that did my makeover last year, so they know me there and know my "past," which is always a bonus.  It was a last minute appointment so I ended up with my cut first and highlights second, not the usual order of things.  The owner of the salon cuts my hair and he's an awesome guy, but I have so much more fun with the stylist who colors my hair, Allen.

Allen is a hot mess. He's gay and not afraid to let the world know it, so consequently, he's entertaining.  I sat in his chair and as he played with my hair, he asked what color we were going with that day for the highlights.  I told him the same, unless he had other ideas, which I was open to.  We agreed to go with the same but then Allen suggested I go with his color, which is completely dark and unhighlighted.  Without missing a beat, I told him I thought that was a great idea because then I could be come his stalker.  It all went down hill from there.  By the time he was done putting foil in my hair, we were laughing so much that the entire salon was trying to figure out what was going on with us and the stylist and her client next to us.  Our conversation covered many topics from my book and my second project which we determined will be a book about Allen.  The first sentence will be: "Once upon a time there was a diva stylist and he was a hot mess."  It went onto how I could stalk him at the karaoke clubs he goes to on Wednesday and Sunday nights. and his love for Lady Gaga and how he's learning the dance to Bad Romance, which I offered to learn and dance with him at my next appointment.  When I left I had some really great hair but also half my makeup smeared off from laughing so much I cried.

Today I went to Starbucks to write.  Ryan changed preschools so its more difficult to hook up with my SIL Janne' but we determined that I would go write and she would drop in and see me.    Soon after she arrived my friend Heather, who calls herself my stalker, showed up because she was driving by and recognized our vans. (See, she really is a stalker.) We spent the hour or more talking (which included a litany of the many ways multiple pets have met their tragic end in our household) and laughing so much people were straining to look at us tucked in my little writers nook. (I usually sit in a corner behind the counter where no one can see me- explanation below.)  When they  left, they apologized for staying so long and interrupting my writing and I realized how truly lucky I am.  How many people have so many friends that make them laugh on such a consistent basis?  And how is it that it took me so many years to find them?



* I hide when I write because when I first started going away to write last year, my boys would make fun of me. They told me that people only went to Starbucks with their laptops so they could look cool.  They then proceeded to show me which included them banging their fingers on a table top, turning their heads right and left, occasionaly picking up an imaginary coffee cup with one hand while "typing" with the other and saying "Look at me!  I'm working!  I'm writing!  Look at me!"  Consequently, I was forever scarred and became a hideaway writer.  Look for me in the corner of your nearest Starbucks.

15 comments:

Jules said...

I love laughing that hard-it's been awhile since I laughed til I cried . . .

BTW-I thought being a "hot mess" was a bad thing. Guess I'm too old to understand the lingo . . .

Mei Mei s and Mayhem said...

What a hoot!!! I wish I could get my hair cut their too. Laughter is truely the best medicine!!!




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Mei Mei s and Mayhem said...

I cant spell either!! Glad Im not writing a book! ha

Denise said...

Jules, I believe a hot mess IS supposed to be a bad thing but Allen owns it. LOL

Denise said...

April, that's why I have spell check!

Mei Mei s and Mayhem said...

Im such a bad speller that sometimes spell check does not even work for me! ha

As a young student my teacher always said use the dictionary, well if you cant spell that does not make much sense! {forehead slap}

Katie said...

Seriously??? You're going to come all the way out to Cali to work at MY Starubucks??? I would so come and see you! :) Now...which of the 75 will you be at?

Kristin said...

I love this post and I'm so glad that you have lots of people who make you laugh! That makes life worth living!

Heather said...

It makes me sad that there aren't more people out there who enjoy a good laugh. They have no idea what they're missing. I laughed more that weekend than I have in a while, and it did my heart and spirit good.

I can't believe your kids scarred you about your writing...however, being in a hidden spot probably helps you get more writing done without interruption.

Your stylist sounds awesome!

Trying Traditional said...

Lately, I felt I had gone through this awful dark tunnel where I felt I had to do for my family, my parents, my home, etc. etc. and "I" got left somewhere in the dark. Your previous post was the kick in the pants I needed to see I had to do something. I started working out again and am doing things in the house that I want done (well, except laundry, food, etc. that has to be done.) I don't care if we always put tins up for Christmas, this year I want greenery and glass ornaments. I'm the one here 24/7 looking at it, darn it, I want it how I like it within reason.

It felt selfish for awhile, but honestly it doesn't at all feel bad now. I am not any good to my family if I am in a black hole. Taking hold of a few things I love has really helped.

All that to say, a haircut is next. I'm doing what I want how I want and everyone can just live with it. I've been letting it grow out since adopting the twins (that would be three years ago.) I knew one kid liked it this way, husband liked it that way, and on and on it goes. Shoot, I might do a hot pink streak in the front just to freak them all out! (okay, I am kidding on that last part.)

Brandy said...

Laughing is all that keeps me from going *completely* insane. And to make others laugh is one of my favorite things to do.

I wish I was closer so that I could stalk you at the Bucks. :[

Katie said...

I was thinking about this post tonight as I sat in a Starbucks with a couple of good friends laughing as people looked at us! I really enjoyed it, thinking about how healthy it really was! :)

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Mommakin said...

Laughing so hard you make other people want to change tables is a good, good, good, good thing!

Angie H. said...

I need a stylist like this....
Good for you doing more for you....
I am really trying to work on this after reading your blog... You really opened my eyes....