My Trip to the Salon: Part 2

What if I told you Nicole Kidman, Kirsten Dunst, Minnie Driver, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Amy Ryan, and Gwyneth Paltrow had a love child. What if I told you that love child was me?

I have a love-hate relationship with celebrity comparisons. The comparisons are one-time deals and highly unreliable. I mean seriously. Nicole Kidman? Minnie Driver?

I'm beginning to think that people recognize me by my round face, blond hair, and upturned nose.

*****

There is a certain part of the salon experience that I find completely awkward and uncomfortable: the wash.

I can only assume the general public enjoys having their head massaged and cleansed at the hands of a professional, and under normal circumstances I would as well. But I simply cannot get over how its done. It's no different than placing your neck in a sort of porcelain brace only to dangle your head into an over-sized urinal.

Yes. I said “over-sized urinal”. And not just any over-sized urinal—the type that hang out in the middle of the room. Not off to the side or behind a privacy screen. Smack dab in the middle of the room like you're in some military barracks or prison.

And then they try to talk to you, expecting answers. Except you can't hear a thing apart from the roar of water gushing over your ears and the magnified sound of your own heartbeat.

It's at this point in the process that I try to put on my most serene, de-stress face, hoping my stylist will get the hint and abstain from chatter. But this time, the water wasn't deafening, and I could hear every word.

And they knew it.

"Have you ever seen Ever After?" the stylist next to us asked my hair dresser.

I quietly panicked as my ears perked up. I knew exactly where this was headed. Call it intuition, call it super powers, call it past experience, but I was about to be either gigantically insulted or complimented right there with my head in a urinal. There was no derailing this train.

"Yeah, I think," my stylist replied.

"It's with Drew Barrymore," the stylist hinted.

I tried to focus on my breathing. And the water.

"Yeah, yeah."

I braced myself. Here it came.

In her most isn't-that-the-darndest voice, the other stylist said, "Your client looks just like one of the stepsisters."

And there it was.

"Oh," my stylist said. "Yeah. She kind of does." I couldn't tell if she bought into it. She's very good at feigning interest. Very good.

"Yeah, it's probably just this angle. But her face,” she said in amazement. “Have you ever seen the movie?" She now turned to me.

"A long time ago. I don't really remember," I shrugged it off.

"Well you look just like her."

“Yeah, I wouldn't know,” I said.

"She's a real pretty girl," my stylist jumped in, obviously realizing that I could easily take offense.

And the conversation continued....

*****

The saddest part of this whole fiasco is that I'll never be a good candidate for America's Next Top Model.

“This face,” Tyra will say, “I've seen this face before. Lots of times. On many people. It's not fresh. It's not new.”

And I'll be sent home.

*****

So what are some of your celebrity comparisons? I want to hear them all!