Digital Perm - First Time

I thought I'd write about my experience getting a digital perm since my internet research thus far on this topic has brought up such scant results.  Actually, this is my very first perm - ever - so I don't even know what the difference is between a traditional perm and a digital perm.  My best guess is that a digital perm has the capability to heat up the rollers due to the metal rod that is in the middle of each roller.  But as for the actual chemicals used and yada yada yada - I have no idea. 

I went to a local Korean salon and my stylist - Vicky - spoke enough English to communicate with me, but not enough for us to talk about the particulars.  Since I have super-straight and fine hair that, traditionally, can't hold a curl for longer than an hour or so, I was skeptical about any perm having the capability to give me the wavy tresses I've long desired.  Rather than spending a lot of money at the more expensive salons, I opted to try Vicky out.  The digital perm was $120, plus she gave me a bottle of oil (a relaxer, perhaps?) at the end.

I brought some pictures in with me to show Vicky what I wanted, but something tells me that no matter what I showed her, she was going to give me the same old digital perm she gives everyone else.  I suppose that's the problem with going to a more mom and pop type salon -- they lack a degree of polish and customer attentiveness that I'm accustomed to.  But, I didn't really care too much.  I didn't really have high expectations; rather, I was just praying that I wouldn't leave with a frizzy, pubic-looking, mess on my head.  Wish granted.  :)

I don't really recall the exact steps Vicky took, but I do remember being shuffled back and forth between the chair and the room with glowing red lights. . . I presume that room contained heat that would activate the chemicals in my hair.  Vicky seemed to use the same sized rollers across my head, but perhaps that was because my hair is only one length with no layers.  After she was done putting my hair in rollers, she pulled this archaic and somewhat alienesque-looking machine with a bunch of cords attached to it - each cord, of course, attached to a roller on my head.  The next thing I knew, I looked like this, felt heat, and saw steam coming from my head.  Scary!

And then I just did a whole lot of sitting.  The whole process probably took between 2-3 hours, and I wasn't attached to the digital machine for very long at all.  After my hair was washed, the only thing Vicky did was show me how to blow-dry it: twist small strands in my hands as I blow dry and always scrunch the tips of my strands in a ball, pushing them upwards, to keep the curls bouncy.

You can compare the final result with my super-straight hair, shown here:

It has only been a few days, which means I don't know how this will look in a week or two.   But as of right now, I like it just fine.  I don't love it because it wasn't quite what I wanted, but I'm okay with the results.  My one piece of advice is that for anyone who has heavily color-treated hair, or bleached hair, to not bother with a digital perm.  I have three panels in my hair that were previously bleached and those turned out horribly!  They didn't curl, were tangled, brittle, and mostly resembled crumpled hay.  Vicky ended up thinning out those sections of my hair considerably because they looked so hideous.

As for upkeep - because I do my best to be low maintenance (aka I am super lazy) - all I've done thus far is purchase some shampoo and conditioner designed for curly and/or permed hair, and a mousse with leave-in conditioner.  I wash my hair, rub the oil Vicky gave me, blow dry in her recommended manner, and then run the mousse throughout my hair.  All of my products came from Target and I bought the cheapest products I could find because most fancy beauty products I've purchased in the past have all sucked.   Now my hair always looks slightly messy,  but hopefully not unruly, and even though there's product in my hair - it is still soft, bouncy, and never crispy looking, feeling, or sounding.  Amen to that.

Here's to having curly hair!  At least for a month or two.  :)

P.S.  Photos taken with the iPad 2, which has a crappy camera.  Apple could've done better, I know it, but they probably intentionally made it crappy.  Grr.

The meeting.

We made plans to meet later on in the day.  He had plans he needed to attend to and I wasn't in the mood to accompany him.  The day was pretty and there was a park nearby full of trees offering shade to protect me against the sun.  I went to the park with the intention of sitting underneath the cool of a tree to read my book, and yet, I opted to sit next to a large iron gate instead, thereby exposing myself fully to the sun.  I didn't mind though; sometimes I like the heat.

I noticed him a little bit later, searching for me amongst the trees.  He didn't see me, of course, never anticipating that I would select my station near the gate with my seat the hot concrete instead of the cool grass.  And then I noticed my sudden sense of immobility.  There was no desire to meet him, no desire to get up and greet him.  "I'm supposed to want to, aren't I?," I thought.  "We barely even see each other," I thought.  But I recognized that feeling - that sense of deadness.  I've felt it before.  The onset of my paralysis occurred because, at that exact moment, my mind finally acknowledged what my heart had already known: the feelings I once felt for him no longer existed.

I never quite know when I have crossed that imaginary line between caring and not caring.  It happens so silently, stealthily, completely undetectable.  I can't even be sure if there is ever a cause - a catalyst - or if occurs because I am fickle and cold.  I don't even know how to determine the point of origin or when it happened or why it happened because by the time the realization that I've moved on becomes imperceptibly clear to me, I also lose the desire to fumble through the fogginess of my mind to help piece the puzzle together.  What's the point?  If it didn't make a fuss to begin with, I shouldn't make a fuss now.

He saw me then, at that exact moment.  I slapped on a fake smile.  I had no choice.  The only half-way decent thing to do was to allow this feeling of emptiness the chance to persist, to grow, in order to test it a bit.  If it stayed, then it must be real.  If it suddenly disappeared, then, well, perhaps it was the hours of sitting under the sun that caused it.  Either way,  I had to put on a show, pretend that I was just as happy to see him as he was to see me.  He deserved at least that; he deserved at least confirmation of my distance. 

But when I saw his face, I could also feel my resolve to conceal my true feelings falter.  Falter because I am a terrible liar and falter because the weight of knowing that I was here yet again, at this place where I have been with other men, is more disheartening than I would ever allow myself to accept.  I didn't want to look at him further.  And then, thankfully, I woke up.

Dreams - they can be so real at times, can't they?  Perhaps not in scenery and sight, but at times, certainly in sensation and feeling.  The doom from that dream transferred from my dream state and stayed with me to my waking state.  I felt the sadness of it all over again. This time, this time though, it was real.  Noticeable.  But when I looked to my left, I was so pleased to see Daniel's face.  Grateful, truthfully, because he was not the man in the dream.