Just Call Me Bo!

Last week, my new husband Anthony and I went on our honeymoon to St. Maarten. Most newlywed guys would ask their wife to bring that sexy lingerie on the trip, or perhaps request a couples massage at the hotel, but my husband? He wanted me to get my hair braided on the island! So of course I said hell yeah! I found a sweet local lady named Emily who told me she could braid my hair for $2.00 per strand, and thinking that there was no way she could get any more than 40 strands out of my head, I figured I would do it. She took Anthony and I to a bench on the boardwalk, instructed me to hand her the aluminum foil and beads after each strand, and got to work. I'd have to say that I have the best husband in the world for sitting with us during the whole process in the sweltering heat for two and a half hours. I had no idea it would take that long and I couldn't see what she was doing but knowing that I had handed her way more than 40 beads, I figured I'd be reaching into the bottom of my piggy bank to pay her off...

After she finished, she told Anthony she was going to count the strands for us while he watched- she didn't want to rip us off! One, two...turned into ten, twenty...thirty...fifty...seventy....83!!!!! Holy crap, 83 strands! I laughed while Anthony shook his head. I handed Emily the cash and shrugged my shoulders- hey, I'm on vacation! I immediately felt like Monica from that episode of Friends when she gets her braids caught in the shower curtain and then I felt like a six year old who had just returned from the carnival.....I needed to put on some makeup ASAP and turn this hairdo into a sexy Bo Derek look! After an hour in the bathroom (trying to pin back some of those beaded strands was a nightmare) I thought I had achieved as close to Bo Derek as I was going to get.

The worst part about the hairdo (besides getting a scalp burn in Anguilla the next day due to the visible scalp exposure) was taking out the braids. Even though Anthony almost paid me to wear my braids to work on Tuesday when we got home, there was no way I was walking into my office in 'Caribbean Business Casual' attire. So, on Sunday night, Anthony helped my take out all the beads (again, I have an amazing husband) and I went with just braids for the next couple of days. But I knew that it was time to take them out when I arrived at the airport in New York and people were staring at me like I was trying to be Fergie from The Black Eyed Peas circa 1999. So I began the grueling process of undoing the teeny tiny strands of braids in the American Airlines lounge (oh the stares I got) until it was time to board the plane. At this point, I looked like I had a mini afro only at the top of my head. Of course when I got on the plane (thank goodness for business class) we were sitting by Leeza Gibbons and David Tutera and I was mortified that they would have to witness me taking out my braids but I had to do it! It took me the entire Birdman movie and half of The Theory of Everything to get those things out and I swear I looked just like one of those Silkie chickens when I was finished. Note to self- tell Emily next time to cap off the braids at 25 strands...