Banana clips and blue hair

Scott and I went to the Astros game last night. Our tickets were in a suite, with free food, and free drinks. It should have been a fun night, but it wasn't. The people in the suite were all boring, and there was a woman there, about my age, with long, bleach-blonde hair, and obviously fake boobies. All made up, with the makeup and the hair, and the tight jeans, and the heels. Was I jealous? NO. But I always want to walk up to those girls and ask, "Why? WHY?! You're at a BASEBALL GAME, for Pete's sake!!" I'm just a firm believer in never having to dress up--especially at a baseball game. How are you supposed to scream and jump and yell and drink beer and eat peanuts if you're wearing tight jeans and high-heels? EXACTLY. You can't. Have some FUN, for God's sake. Moving on....

I did see something fun though, that made me have a fond memory--a banana clip. Can you believe? I saw a woman wearing a banana clip. Well, you have to take in my surroundings. I forgot to mention that although I was in a suite, it was a suite filled with oil & drilling company people and their wives. I think the median age of oil-field persons is 50. Regardless, there was an older woman wearing a banana clip. The banana clip--what an ingenious invention--much like the "Topsy-tail." Seeing this woman's banana clip made me think of 5th grade, when banana clips were actually cool. Let's see....that would have to be around 1985-ish.

I was a good kid. No, for real. I was REALLY good. Straight As, teacher's pet, friendly to everyone, and totally innocent by 5th-grade standards--I had just recently found out what "French" kissing was, and was appalled. **News flash: Even when I was 13 and had my first french kiss, it was still appalling. I want to Listerine my mouth every time I think about it. Ew.** Okay, back to 5th grade...There was a lady who lived on our street, who owned a salon. I thought she was pretty cool for an old lady, but come to think about it, she was probably in her mid-20s. When you're 10, everybody's old. It was the era of the reign of Cyndi Lauper and Madonna (when she was "Like a Virgin"); which led to black bracelets up your arms ala Madonna, and brightly-colored hair ala Cyndi Lauper. The 80s were so fun. Jane, the salon lady, had short, spiky, PURPLE hair. To me, she was the epitome of cool. I was hanging at her house one day, and she was re-dying her hair. I SO wanted purple hair. I told Jane. She said she was out of purple dye. But she had blue. I ran down the street to ask my mom if Jane could dye my hair blue. During the 5-house run, I thought about lying and just telling Jane that my mom said 'yes.' I didn't. I went home and actually asked (told you I was good), and my mom said 'YES.' She wouldn't let me dye my entire head blue, but I could dye a 1"-wide strand on each side, behind my ear, so when we went to church the priest wouldn't pass out. She said she let me do this because I was a good kid.

Let me tell you--the next day at school, I was the shit. I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and on each side, had an electric-blue stripe of hair going up into the elastic and then erupting in waves in the ponytail. I felt so cool--not just because of my totally kick-ass, 5th-grade, blue hair, but because everyone was going on about how awesome my mom was.

So really, mom, thanks. That was one of the best days of my entire life. I loved my blue hair*. You ARE awesome.

*I went through blue, purple, and aqua after that.