Sunday, September 5, 2010

Tracey Knows For Sure - Things I'm Ungrateful For

I despise Oprah Winfrey, I really do.  I've had just about enough of her to last me a lifetime.  Today, while surfing the internet I came across this preachy article entitled Oprah Knows For Sure.

Here's an excerpt. 

What I know for sure is that every sunrise is like a new page, a chance to right ourselves and receive each day in all its glory. Each day is a wonder....No matter what our troubles, when the earth turns on its axis one more time and we see what appears to be the sun rising, I feel it's the universe calling for a change in ourselves. You have one more day. Rise with it!

Oh shut up Oprah - you know nothing. 

On that note, I've decided to write about the things I'm most ungrateful for.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm a pretty happy person almost all of the time, but a good bitch now and then is good for the soul.  Topping my list today is definitely my greatest genetic misfortune.

My Hair
I wish I was one of those people who could wake up in the morning looking tousled.  You know what I mean?  Jennifer Aniston probably looks tousled when she wakes up in the morning.  My daughter Stinky wakes up in the morning looking tousled.  These are the types of people who get up and (without even brushing) toss their hair into an unruly ponytail and look like a million bucks. 

This was me this morning.

Why do I look like this?  Not only does it look like someone punched me repeatedly in the face last night, but do you think I could really run a hand through this rat's nest, toss on jeans and a t-shirt and go out for brunch?  This is what I look like every morning.  Poor Baz.

And if that's not enough, I've been blessed with the thinnest hair imaginable.  It get this from my father, who was born with a comb over.  (Thanks for this gene, Dad.  Thank you so bloody much.)

When I got pregnant my hair came out by the handfuls.  The doctors assured me it would grow back.  That was 12 years ago, and I'm still waiting.  So, I've broken down, and now I use Nioxin. For you thick-haired people who don't know what that is, I despise you.  Nioxin's main customers are 40-something men with receding hairlines.  And me.  I usually take a large duffel bag when I buy it, so that I can stash it away and slink out of the salon without being noticed. 

My friends try to say comforting things to me.  They'll run their fingers through their hair and say,
"Wow, Tracey you are sooooo lucky! My hair is so thick I can't do a thing with it, and it takes hours to dry."

"Oh I'm sorry," I'll answer. "How unfortunate. I guess I should be happy, because unless I sprint from the shower to the hair dryer in the bedroom, my few strands of hair are already dry by the time I get there."
I want to slap them.

So, there you have it.  My first installment of things I'm ungrateful for.  I feel better already. 

Take care,



  1. I have that gene and my hair dries quickly too. If you want to do some slapping, I will hold the people who earn it with their hair comments

  2. Wonderful! Let's form a thin hair posse!