I feel like I’m batting 0 for, like, a million this morning. But I have to admit it makes a pretty good story. Here’s what happened:
I woke up to a cloudless blue sky–normally an indicator that the day ahead was going to be of the glorious, 500 Days of Summer dance-scene type. It finally wasn’t hotter than the surface of the sun outside, so I decided to actually dry my hair after my shower. (When my dried hair meets humidity, the result is usually apocalyptic.)
I got in the shower and rejoiced to find that there was actually hot water! (The building I’m in, Atherton, is really old. Apparently, for the first week of classes, it can’t handle pumping warmed water up to the second floor.) By all accounts, the day was going well. Little did I know that it was just the universe messing with me.
I got out of the shower and was brushing my teeth when a girl from my floor plugged her hairdryer into the outlet near the bathroom door. Across the row of sinks, I spit and did the same. Engaged in mutual displays of grooming, neither of us was expecting what happened next: All the bathroom lights went out.
We looked at each other, the silence heavy without the buzz of our hairdryers.
“Darn it,” she said.
I was not about to walk outside with a third of my hair dry, so I walked back to my room and plugged in, breathing a sigh of relief. No way would I let the frizzies win. (They’re malicious little buggers.)
I was winning, I really was, beating the frizzies back left and right until it happened.
The lights in my room went out.
“Seriously?!” I put my half-dry head on my desk.
A knock sounded at my door. “Did you guys just lose power?” It was my neighbor.
“Yep,” I replied, miserably. I could practically hear the frizzies laughing maniacally.
I hunched over, ready for the frizz onslaught, when a shining ray of light from heaven shot across my mind. Was Paige awake yet?
Paige is one of my very best friends here at Penn State, who has just moved into an apartment building that’s barely three minutes from my dorm. If she were home, I could quick run over and beat those frizzies once and for all.
I dialed her number, crossing my fingers and pouring out my story when she picked up. Turned out she was right in front of my building, taking a stroll before she had to go to class. Bless her soul, she said she’d meet me and take me back to her apartment.
I grabbed my poor frustrated hairdryer and told my roommate I’d be back in ten.
My hairdryer sprang to life when I plugged it in, sounding energetic and ready to finish the job. It performed well, my weapon against the frizzies, and I’m happy to report that victory was mine. I ran a hand through my now-sleek hair and wove a string of thank yous around my best friend that would have reached to Jupiter and back. Twice.
She walked me back to Atherton, where the doors to the lobby were open. I made my way across it, feeling kind of stupid for walking in off the street with nothing but a hairdryer in hand. I felt even more stupid when I realized said hairdryer wouldn’t be much good for swiping into the residential hallways. I had left my student ID in my room. Along with my phone.
I loitered in front of the door for a few seconds, feeling ridiculous. Feet away, in the lobby proper, the dean of Penn State’s honors college was mingling with students over free coffee and donuts, as he does every Friday. Here I was, wearing bright blue and carrying a hairdryer, looking as lost as a freshman. (And I’m a junior.) Dean Brady knows who I am, too, so if he saw me, the savvy, sophisticated-girl image I’d worked so hard to build would come crumbling down. I have a feeling a couple of vengeful frizzies set me up.
I spotted a friend from the building making his way through the people in the lobby. Desperate, I skirted the crowd, trying (and probably failing) to look inconspicuous. He did a double-take upon seeing me and shook his head when I told him The Epic of Electrical Encumbrances. Like the gallant gentleman that he is, he swiped me onto my floor, where I scurried to my room and flopped on my bed, exhausted from all the drama.
So…how was your morning?
They look the way I felt.