The One With the Hair Math

I didn't even know my hair was curly until I was in 7th grade. To most, this wouldn't seem like a big deal, but to me... well... lets just say that meant 13 years of brushed-out fro.

Now, I kind of like my hair. On some days it looks real cute... and on the others... well, I guess it gives me personality. Isn't that what you say about someone who looks like hell? "Well, at least she's got personality." On a rainy day, I have enough personality to host my own game show. But on a first date, let's just say that your personality isn't really what you want to highlight. Men are like blowtorches (so says Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus), meaning the physical attraction comes before any of that emotional crap. It's the women who can look past a bad hair day because we, apparently, are like ovens (take a long time to heat up), and the emotional comes first. So on a first date, I always have to pray for nice weather. It's all mathematical, really:

Nice weather = Nice hair = Guy might call me again

Rain/snow/any humidity whatsoever = nasty frizz = I'll never hear from him again