The Secret Upside of Death

I was inspired to begin my blog by a quote I read in the New Yorker.  It is by Nora Ephron, and rang so true that I could not help but share.  

"The amount of maintenance involving hair is genuinely overwhelming," she has written."Sometimes I think that not having to worry about your hair anymore is the secret upside of death."

The abuse I pour down upon my meagre supply of hair is ridiculous.  The swimming, the sweat, the washing, the drying, the rolling, the spraying.  No amount of work guarantees good hair.  Or, and maybe even worse, I sometimes leave my house with the confidence that my hair looks great, only to find that in the car, on the way to the party, my hair has outfoxed me.  It has frizzed or fallen or worse, the appearance that all my split ends have run races to the roots.  I live in fear of humidity.  

I am avoiding balancing my check book in an effort to avoid knowing how much I have spent in the last two weeks on desperate attempts to heal my mane. I am putty in the hands of any peddler of hair repair. 

The Bumble and Bumble.  

The Katira Hair Masque by Philip B.

The Phyto No. 9

The Davines nourishing repairing mask

The pre-swim Barex hair oil

and even as I write I am salivating over the Philip B. White Truffle line that may force me to make the most difficult decision of all:  Is my son's college education less important than the possibility that his mother could come to high school graduation with shiny shiny hair?  

Can a triathlete have good hair?  Is the White Truffle line available on ebay?  Can I wear my hair in a bun for the rest of my life?