Confessions from the Curly-Haired Girl

This is the Curly-Haired Girl. She has pretty hair.



The Curly-Haired Girl (or CHG) would like to confess that she has a weakness for MTV's reality schlock. She knows good and well that it's just bullshit, but watching the vapid dilettantes on Laguna Beach or 8th & Ocean manufacture superficial drama is a guilty pleasure she can't explain and never feels the need to defend with more than a wicked giggle.

Having been home sick way too often lately, she had the opportunity to revel in marathon viewing sessions of said shows, courtesy of her DVR. Of special interest was the dating show Next. The basic premise of the show is that one lucky person gets to choose from 5 datees who sit waiting on a bus. For every minute that the date lasts, the datee gets a dollar. If Lucky ends up choosing the datee, they can either take the money for however long the date has lasted, or go on a second date. It's hysterical when Lucky takes one look at the person just as they step off the bus only to yell "Next!" immediately (thus signalling the end of the date). Trash-talking usually ensues on both sides. It's like Jerry Springer, but with pretty people. (Not that the CHG ever watches Springer!)

On this particular episode of Next, Lucky was a young blond boy with big muscles and that arrogance found in kids who think their shit don't stink. He was special enough to get not one but TWO curly-haired girls to choose from. Yay! But he wasn't having it. He immediately "nexted" the first girl because--and this is brilliant--he doesn't like pasta and doesn't want to date a girl with hair like spaghetti.

WTF???

The CHG was deeply offended by this jackass' attitude towards the sprially-inclined. Never in her life has she met a person that didn't, if not immediately then eventually, fawn over her hair as if bewitched by the tangles. More often than not, she has been beseiged with stories of how much people paid to mimic her tresses' gorgeous bounce and volume. For the first 20 or so years of her life, the CHG merely rolled her eyes at these compliments, knowing full well that these people had no idea the amount of maintenance her hair required. But over time she came to embrace her curlies, finally believing that she does indeed have beautiful hair.

And then this guy has the nerve to call it spaghetti? Whatever to your jive, you imbecilic shithead.

Thankfully, real men love the CHG's hair. And those are the only ones that matter.

Now, if you'll excuse her, there's an episode of Made she must go watch.