Inauguration Rejuvination Revisted.

Inauguration weekend I had the pleasure of being invited to the Green Inauguration Ball. Raquel and I, already being a pitcher of Margarita's in when we made these plans, created for a difficult planning schedule. Somehow we drunkenly ventured to Pentagon City and purchased ball gowns. Raquel, Bo and I hail a taxi and are on our way to the Mellon Auditorium on Constitution Avenue. We got to the ball just in time to avert a hangover setting in.

I am completely stoked to attend the Green Ball. I am so into the hippie lifestyle. If I could live my life as one of the Chicks that set up house in the treetops of "Without a Paddle," I could die a happy gal. Everything at the ball was organic; the food, the drinks, the table linens, everything. The theme was "Maximum Celebration, Minimal Impact." We most definitely celebrated Mr. Obama's Presidency to the fuckin' max. Hayden Panitierre gave a save the whales speech and Wyclef performed.

All the older guests donned long, gray braided hair and no one shaved their legs. I fit right in. I met several interesting people who were really passionate about recycling, water preservation and other humanity issues. I imagine people from Greenpeace were amongst the crowd as well as some cast members of Whale Wars.

The most interesting character was one Bo befriended. He was a langly older white man sporting a blonde curly afro. We find out that he is a retired porn star. Now it all makes sense! Several pictures are taken because this guy is clearly the joke of the evening. Please see Bo and "Shaggy" the retired porn star below.



Flash Forward. I go to get my hair done today at PR and Partners in Metro Center. We decide on my hair (touched up the roots with some honey highlights-I know you were DYING to know) and I pick up Glamour and start to relax a little while, LaTrece, who specializes in "ethic" hair, goes to mix the color.

I am prepped to be primped. I look around to take in the scenery of the trendy salon. When I see something ASTONISHING. SHAGGY, in all his pride and glory, was sitting across from me getting a permanent. Yes a fucking perm. DIE. I am DYING.

If I would have had my phone I would have speed dialed everyone I knew. Here I am, getting my hair did, sitting across from a retired porn star who is in the process of getting a perm. I'm living on top of the world. Wait, I am the king of the world.

I go to get shampooed and recieve my complimentary head massage (which I check marked relaxing in my consultation). There he is, next to me again. He has his cotton swab around his hairline and a moist towel on his face (haha-moist). The stylist assistant is gently applying the chemical mixtures to the baby pink rollers in his dirty blonde hair. I can now openly stare and laugh as his face was covered. I AM DYING!

I head back to LaTrece's station for the cut. I forget about Shaggy for a while. I forgot mainly because I saw about 5 inches of my hair being chopped to smithereens. Suddenly, an extra from Saturday Night Fever enters the room all blow dried and permed up. I wish I could say he was wearing a leisure suite, pleather platform tuxedo shoes and doing the hustle under a glistening dosco ball. Hey, a girl can dream cant she?

I think I just added 10 years to my life from the enjoyment I had this evening. I am so satisfied, I am staying in. Well, maybe I am staying in because LaTrece styled my hair like Sally Field in Gidget but that's for me to know and you to find out.