(Last night, 8pm.)
Self: Wow! Your hair!
Me: Yeah, I know.
Self: It looks fantastic! Where’d you get it done?
Me: Up the street at George’s.
Self: Did you get it colored? It looks darker.
Me: Yeah. Now it’s all the same color and not full of gold like the old stuff.
Self: Really. It looks great. I’m not even joking.
Me: Well, thanks. That’s a change.
Self: No, I mean it. You look really great. Even your smile is nicer.
Me: Hm. Thanks. Again. I really like it. My hair, I mean.
Self: Me too! Your hair is so nice and curly, too! I mean, big curls that make your hair so voluminous!
Me: I know. Yeah, I really like it.
Self: And you look thinner!
Me: Okay, well, thanks. That’s enough.
Self: So do you know how to style it for tomorrow?
Me: No, not really. I mean, I was looking at what he was doing, but I don’t have the right hair dryer or brush to do the same thing.
Self: Oh. [pause] So, what you’re saying is that you’re not going to look like this again.
Me: Well, basically, yeah.
Self: You should take a picture.
Me: Why would I do that?
Self: Because it looks so good now and you know it’ll look like crap tomorrow and every day after, so at least you can look back on one day and say you looked good.
Me: That was harsh, but I see where you’re going.
Self: I’ll get the camera. [calling from the other room:] Are you going to shower tomorrow?
Me: Um, yes. Why wouldn’t I?
Self: [still in the other room] Because I’ve heard that if you just sleep on a new haircut and don’t shower or anything it’ll still look pretty good the next day. [pause] Hey, you know your camera has ink all over it?
Me: Yeah [checking e-mail]. A pen exploded on it over the weekend in Rio. Damnit! The Internet’s down.
Self: I know, it’s been down all day. [coming back into room] So are you going to shower?
Me: I don’t know. If that’s true, maybe I won’t. He did wash it three times.
Self: So then the only thing that’ll be dirty is your body.
Me: Yeah, which is gross and I don’t want to go to school like that.
Self: But at least your hair will look good. Here’s your camera.
Me: Thanks. Can you take the picture?
Me: [going into the living room] Here it is.
Self: You know your bra strap is showing?
Self: Just saying. Listen. Tomorrow when the alarm goes off, can you not hit the alarm for an hour? Can you just get up when the stupid music comes on? I’d like to sleep in and not be interrupted every ten minutes.
Me: Well, I’d like to sleep through a whole night without you waking up to go to the bathroom and disturbing me.
Self: I can’t help it.
Me: Well, neither can I.
Self: Heard of the movie “The Whale Rider?”
Me: Yeah. I read the book.
Self: Sit down. It’s about to start.
Me: Hey, I’m home.
Self: Took you long enough. Where were you?
Me: Getting my nails done at George’s.
Self: Rough day?
Me: Not especially. Why?
Self: Bobby pins, pony tail. What gives? Didn’t you have a fantastic haircut yesterday?
Me: Yeah. Turns out your little advice about sleeping on a new haircut doesn’t hold water. I looked like shit this morning and it was too late to take a shower because I’d been banking on your advice.
Self: So you went to school like that? Jesus. I hope you wore deodorant.
Me: Of course I did!
Self: Well it doesn’t look like it. At least your nails look good now.
Me: I was just listening to your wisdom, for crying out loud! Thought you’d gotten it from a reputable source.
Self: Actually, I didn’t get it from anywhere. I made it up. Thought it sounded pretty good.
Me: You’re an asshole. I’m never listening to you again.
Self: I’m an asshole? Who’s the one who took advice from an alter-ego about not showering in the morning?
[pause. readjusting hair into tighter ponytail.]
Me: Well, you’re still an asshole.
Self: That is clearly not my problem. [pause] So you gonna shower tomorrow? You know, I’ve heard that if you shower within the first twenty-four hours of getting your nails done, they’ll fall off. I’d hate for you to look like you do and have no nails.