what I talk about when I talk about changing my life
My friend L and I were in Paris staying on her grandparents’ sailboat anchored on the Seine. It was December. The heat was turned off for the winter. We had spent a long day walking around The Pere Lachaise Cemetery, thinking about literature and how cute everything in Paris was. The word cute was used and abused to the full extent of the law on that trip.
We had settled into bed in the bow of the boat, and I was just dozing off when I heard L’s disembodied voice in dark, “Are you awake? I was just thinking that I might start parting my hair on the other side. No seriously look.”
She turned on the flashlight and pointed it at her crown as she rearranged her hair so that it was parted on the other side. “What do you think?” she asked, “No, no wait.” She moved one more piece to join its brethren, “Now, what do you think?”
Two years later, I don’t remember if the new part stuck, and honestly who cares? What did stick was the thought that letting your hair lie in another direction every once in awhile could change your life.
Today, I parted my hair on the other side. It looked hideous, and I instantly went back to the old way, but it might have been a revelation, and it actually kind of was. It proved that I’d been doing it the right way for my whole life without even knowing it, which proved that there is something inherently right about my hair, and my life, and the world.