Ever notice how much talking can get done at the hair salon? Or how much lighter you feel, even though you had less than an ounce of hair cut off? They don`t have psychology degrees, but our hairdressers are psychologists all right.
So today I`m getting my hair did and the topic of men comes up. The topic of men often comes up. We catch up on whose seeing whom, or if either of us are still seeing the same guy from the last haircut. Let`s just say she`s the more stable one of us two.
Anyhow, what I realized in our session today is how crazy it is to think about someone you use to date and have no current recollection of why? Why you dated them. What you saw in them. And craziest, how you could’ve wasted a haircut session fretting about how he`s the one, while claiming to be upset because he hasn`t texted you in three days. OMG! Really! And imagine saying this in the same breath as when you`re telling her about the new guy – who REALLY is the one.
As I thumb through foo-foo magazines waiting for the timer to ensure my hair will be a perfect shade of brown, I can`t help notice all the articles about relationships. Ugh! Dare I actually read one of them and risk being influenced. It says if he opens your car door, he`s the one. Confirmation! I knew he was the one. I`d rather rely on my horoscope compatibility chart than the current issue of Elle.
I decide to ask my stable hairdresser how she can tell when someone is Mr. Right. She divulges her secret – a test. For instance, she’s aware of her stubbornness. What she’ll do is test a potential partner to see if he can handle that part of her. I’m thinking to myself, if I were to begin testing potential partners to see if they can handle challenging parts of me…..well, let’s just say there wouldn’t be very many second dates.
Discouraged, I ponder this throughout the day. I mean really, how does anyone know if someone is the one? What foolproof test could I come up with? I decide I would have to rely on the test of time. The proof would be in the pudding.
What I can do is mix in a little integrity, a splash of sassy, a ¼ cup of authenticity, and see what becomes of it. Although I must admit, on rare occasions I’ve had soufflés refuse to rise even after all the ingredients were measured and mixed to a tee. I suppose I could always raise my odds by adding my mom’s infamous secret ingredient. Anytime her food would come out exceptionally good we’d ask her what she put in it. She would say, Love.
I’ll think I’ll add a dash of love too.