COVID-19 quarantine hair, don’t care: Michelle’s dog sees stylist before she does

My Shih Tzu will get his hair done before I do. But that’s OK. He needs it more.

This pandemic has been hard on Captain Jack. He’s only got one eye, so gotta keep those bangs trimmed. As for me, I’m getting used to my stripe. It’s about three inches long and it runs down the middle of my scalp. At the root of most dumb blondes is a shrewd brunette. And this one is smart enough to rock the ombré look.

“Isn’t an hombre a bandit?” my husband asked, when I announced my quarantine hairstyle.

“Not hombre. Ombré. Sounds the same but spelled differently. It means hair that’s darker on top and gradually gets lighter,” I responded.

Of course, “gradually” may be understatement for my ombrélicious hair, which looks like it jumped off a cliff.

I’ve always been melodramatic and this pandemic has emphasized that. My wrinkles. My emotions. These days, everything runs deeper. Even my waist line has expanded. That’s how big this thing is.

“I admire your calmness,” I told my 23-year-old son, Sam, who has remained unfazed despite the pandemic.

A laid-back guy, Sam passes the time gaming with pals on his computer. He hikes. He hits golf balls. He codes for fun.

The kid recently took up baking. Definitely not his mother’s son.

“Admit it, Sam. You miss going out with your friends.”

“Of course, I do,” he said, shrugging, “but not enough to make me crazy.” He raised an eyebrow as if to say, “That’s your department, Mom.”

Doritos, margaritas and a haircut for Jack

Last week, I got over-served during a virtual Margarita Night. For years, a group of gal pals and I have convened once a month for drinks and dinner at Mariachi’s in Belleville. These days, we hold our Girls-Night-Out via Zoom meetings. Before I knew it, I had powered through three glasses of Jose Cuervo, a bag of Nacho Doritos and what was left of my dignity.

This is what happens when you’re locked up too long. You find yourself hiccuping into your laptop with Dorito dust on your lips.

“So what were you eating?” my friend, Lori, asked me later. “I couldn’t tell on the screen. At one point, you were dropping crumbs into your mouth from above your head like the Romans used to eat grapes. It was pretty funny to watch.”

I awoke the next morning with a hangover and reached for the chocolate to help get me through the day. And that day turned into the next day. And the next day. And the next.

On Wednesday, Captain Jack finally got his hair cut. My own appointment is scheduled for June 10 — if my stylist is allowed to reopen. Due to my quarantine eating habits, I will be wearing stretch pants to the appointment.

This story was originally published May 23, 2020 at 5:00 AM.