D Day (Disaster Day)

Saturday 4th September 2010: St Andre FR: 


A disaster has happened! I should have brought two, but I didn’t and now, I have none!!!!!
ARGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

If you must know my hair straighterners have died today. Now for you to fully understand, you have to talk to my friend Maire. She will know EXACTLY how I feel, in fact, I think she’ll be surprised I didn’t take a back up. I always had two at home, I just didn’t think anything would happen to this new pair. I have to tell you a little story so you know exactly how important they are. OK, so it would be the summer of 2004 and I experienced my first GHD moment in Derbyshire staying with about 60 children. Maire and I took the Year 6 children to PGL for a long weekend and I was sharing a cabin with her and watching her straighten her hair, looking beautiful as always. She asked if I wanted a try. She didn’t know my hair; I thought to myself, she doesn’t know the agony I have had to endure over the years. This is surely just another pair of straighteners. I took them in my hand not being convinced, and in the next few moments, my life, and hair, changed forever. I looked sleek, I looked beautiful, and finally I was a woman! No word of a lie. I would never have to put up with a mop of curly hair again. I was saved!

Me with a headache

I know it sounds a bit drastic, but knowing that I had washed my hair for this night as there was a party, I was desperately disappointed. I had to put my hair in a ponytail again and by now I had a headache. I tried to get rid of it but I couldn’t and so after a bit of food and watching the award ceremony of the competition I went off to sleep it off.

The Pilot without a headache

I woke up about 11pm to music pumping through my head. The headache had subsided and so I took a glass of wine to go and sit on the tables. I sat there watching the dancing and hoped in a few hours I could join them. Some of the retrieve drivers came to join me and I had a really wonderful conversation with a guy called Mick. I had befriended him in the week and we had spent some good conversations together whilst he drove me back to the landing field. I had a real soft spot for him and we continued our philosophical talks with a few more glasses of wine. All the time I was watching the Pilot dance. He took his shirt off at once point, which I won’t go into, because it still makes me cross thinking about it. Nice isn’t it, to dance around girls with your shirt off. No, I said I wouldn’t talk about it, so I won’t.

I eventually got up to dance, the wine encouraging me and I danced my socks off as usual well into the night. I’m not sure what time we went to bed, probably around 4am, but we took some of the cheese with us to have for breakfast the next morning.