(diaryland) May 11, 2001 - 7:59 p.m.

I went to the hairdresser for the first time in perhaps two years. I sat down on the yellow couch. I filled out a form. A lady came and looked at my hair. Another lady came and told me to sit on a chair next to a basin. She began to wash my hair.

"Ooh. This is terribly nice," I said, "having someone else wash my hair for a change."

Suddenly, there was a twinge in my bottom. My leg jerked. The lady massaged my frothy head more vigorously. My bottom began to tickle quite visciously. My leg began to hurl itself everywhere. I pretended I was just a wee bit uncomfortable and that was why I was moving my leg. But the fact that the more she rubbed my head, the more my bottom tickled meant that I was on the verge of laughter and making a complete fool of myself as well.

Finally, it was time for the lady to put the conditioner in. I thought my tickle hell was over. But no such luck. The lady made huge wavy motions all over my head. You would not believe how much my bottom was tickling. You would not believe how much my leg was jerking. I thought of explaining it all to the lady because she seemed to be thinking I might have needed a toilet break. But then I thought, no. How does one tell a head massager that their motions are causing extreme tickeldness in one's bottom? You cannot.