All Must Submit to the Combing of the Hair

If you’re like me, you don’t know that your love life is going badly until you see your hair in the mirror at work.

I swear to God, I caught my reflection this morning, and it was like seeing a homeless person outside the Port Authority. What. The. Feh.

After catching my creepy reflection, I sat down and tried to think of the last time I gave my hair a proper brushing. Honestly? It was days ago. No wonder I had a curl like the handle of a coffee cup jutting out over my left ear.

It’s totally Fight Club when you’re like this. People sort of walk around you and pretend not to notice. Or: Horrors! Perhaps they don’t. I know I’m not my most observant when I’m trying to do the stuff I’m paid to do.

Anyway, the blog-hating fella is not working out, and this is entirely keeping with the record. As long-time readers know, I am famous for dating guys for 3 weeks to 2 months. Since I was 22, I haven’t dated anyone for longer.

I’m thinking of running a contest on the Smash for my first 3-month-plus boyfriend. What do you think? The idea is that I would cull contestants from my write-ins and comments, and then, if I made it to 3 months with any of them, hold a party at the end. You can laugh if you want, but I think this is a brilliant idea. Anyway, it might contribute to the Combing of the Hair.

Published by Jen Hubley Luckwaldt

I'm a freelance writer and editor.

12 thoughts on “All Must Submit to the Combing of the Hair

  1. Willing to travel to Maine? I think I have been able to squeak out 6 months from even the most awful relationships… I am up for a challenge. The dinner would need to be excellent in the case that it was hard work to reach the finish line…

  2. Please enter me in the “Date Ms. Smash for 3 months and win a prize” contest.

    If nothing else I might get a long distance award.

  3. Whenever I’m single, the hair gets combed, just not cut. I really hope I don’t end up with Chrystal Gayle hair. So, while you’re on your world dating tour, stop by Tallahassee.

  4. Start with a hamster or small dog. When you can deal with that level of intrusion into your personal space, you may be ready for closer cohabitation with another human.

  5. This is way better than the Sarah girl that Jane magazine is pimping out to guys willing to take her virginity. Mostly because you are funny, and don’t start every blog entry with the word so.

  6. Sick? I don’t mean she should intrude her, um, personal spaces with hamsters or puppies (or anything, for that matter, that’s not dishwasher safe).

    No, I just mean that having someone (or something) around, always breathing your air…

    (and sitting there looking so stupid on the couch and does he think that beer can is going to walk itself to the trash can? who puts one sock in the hamper and the other one on the floor dammit all to hell and AAAAHHHH!)

    …can get annoying if you don’t slowly acclimitize yourself to it.

    (with an emphatic P.S. stating that I’m not meaning to imply that this is your particular type of neurosis, Ms. Smash, nor that such sabotaging thoughts are the cause of your dating woes. Sweeping generalizations for humorous purposes make me lightheaded with glee. (or it could be the drugs))

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