Nits End.

Another word about Block Island. Bring supplies. I forgot to bring a hair tie and could not bring myself to pay $5.49 for a little package of them when I knew I had some at home. Even if I didn't have them at home I could get the same item in Providence for under $2. It was the principle. I spent the day looking more and more like Slash from Guns 'N Roses.

Fabio sweetly asked our waitress if she had an extra hair tie and she gave me one. I took it and I thanked her but I couldn't use it. In 1988- when I was living in Athens, Georgia I got head lice six times in a row. There was an epidemic in the school system. OMG. Just the thought of this makes me itch. I was a live-in nanny and I babysat for 3 other families. All of the kids had it. I kept getting re-infested. I had hair that hung a little above my waist. It was long, thick and really curly. The perfect breeding ground. Those little critters found a nice nest in me. I offered warmth, security and endless expansion. That is,until I cut it all off.

By the end, I had so many dead white nits in my hair it had really begun to affect my personality. I was so unhappy. I just could not believe the mess I was in. Even though they were finally all dead, I could not get them out of my hair. They clung to me. I had SIX batches in there. It was hell. The loads of laundry, the endless treatments, it wasn't cheap.

I actually had to move out of my house.I had only lived there for a couple of months. I had just moved out on my own. I was so excited about it. I had gone from my parents house to a dorm to being a live in nanny. This was my first foray into independence. I lived in a really big house, all alone. My roommate had just moved out.I wonder why. There was wall to wall carpeting and I think my dog might have had fleas too. I felt really bad about leaving such a legacy. The whole place was spotless, but I think that I left some live wires. I felt even worse when I found out that my house had become a half way house. Those poor people, trying to screw their heads on straight without the added pressure of head lice.



I remember sitting on a bench in downtown Athens. I was sitting between an ice cream store and a record store. I had put my riddled hair in braids. I was reading Frankenstein for English Lit. That is kind of ironically funny now that I think about it. My friend Bill Chappell came over and sat down. He said, "Oh man Lucy, you have really got to do something about your situation." It was bad. I was in a bad situation.

I asked Bill to "go ahead and see" (that's how they talk in the South.) if Mr. Brown (the record store owner) had a pair of scissors that he could borrow. Bill came back out carrying the shears. I told him to cut the braids off and then some. It was traumatic, I loved my hair.

I will never forget the two little boys sitting in the window of Gorin's Ice Cream. They stared in astonishment as Bill clipped off my braids, one at a time. It was awful.

When Fabio scored me that hair tie from a stranger it brought back a flood of horrible memories. One interesting memory of that trying time stands out. I was a Sophomore at UGA. I had been at the Student Center just hours before my first bout with head lice. I had to get a student id made.

My sister Moy had given me this absolutely beautiful hand painted barrette. I loved it. It was gorgeous. I always received compliments when I wore it. Right before my picture was taken I took the barrette out and fluffed up my hair. I somehow forgot the barrette. I realized that it was missing after I had already walked 20 minutes across campus. I turned around immediately. When I went back it was gone. I asked the lady who took my picture if she had seen it. She said no. I didn't believe her. I bet my little friends were breeding in her top desk drawer. Serves her right.

I am paranoid about head lice. When we go to the movies or travel by plane or train I always wear my hair in a tight bun high atop my head. We all have our quirks, and they all have to do with our histories. People can be weird for good reasons.