11 mins, 6 hrs, 28 yrs & a Lifetime

"...I need to write about love. I need to think and think and write and write about love --- otherwise, my soul won't survive."

---- Maria's diary, Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho



Monday is my car’s enforced rest day, but it’s also the start of the week. So in my mind, to have a good week, you should have a good Monday. It’s psychological. Now other people (ordinary people with ordinary hair) only take 4 hours and voila! Their hair is as straight as a board. Mine of course is no ordinary hair so good thing I brought a book I’ve been wanting to read, but haven’t had the inclination to for the last three months.



While they are putting all sorts of chemicals in my hair, I turned the page to the latest Paulo Coelho novel, Eleven Minutes. Everybody has read it, in the small confines of their room, relishing beautiful words, and pondering on the latest Coelho lessons in private. Me, I’m only reading it now, while I’m in a small salon, getting my hair straightened out, with three gay guys shouting obscenities at each other and two manicurists laughing piercingly at the gays’ antics. But read it there, I did.



It only took me two hours to read it. Go figure, that’s the amount of time needed to iron my thick, course hair. Fe, the hairdresser, can no longer keep her arms up by the time she was through. Funny, in that same amount of time, two major events happened.



Paulo Coelho wrote a beautiful and poignant novel about sex, life and love. All my favorite subjects in one book. Why didn’t I read it the moment after I bought it? The thing that struck me the most, in the midst of the shrieking and the loud whirl of the hair dryer, is that I led a life so different from Maria, yet we, ultimately, want the same things in life – I will repeat it here, just so there’s no mistake – ‘…she dreamed of meeting the man of her life (rich, handsome, intelligent), of getting married (in a wedding dress), having two children (who would grow up to be famous), and living in a lovely house (with a sea view).’ And I wondered how is it that two people who led such different lives, a 22 yr old prostitute and a 28 yr old virgin, can want the same things? Aren’t we all influenced by the events of our lives? And yet there it was.



In retrospection, we have a lot in common. We feel the hard pressure of society to have sex or to be sexual yet maintain the dignity of an innocent virgin. We both yearn for adventure overseas, making our dreams come true, and just seizing the moment and opportunities that comes our way. And finally, just when I’m on the verge of giving up on love, she did, but inside, there is that burning hope that we are both wrong in our misconception that love exists only for certain people and not for us.



The thing is, we both believed that we’re the only ones who feel this way, and that we’re alone, lonely beyond belief, drowning in our own emotional baggage. Hah, I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I, an emotionally and sexually repressed old maid, will have all of these in common with a young, cynical and hardened prostitute. I mean, I went to the opposite direction, and she went to the other, yet we are looking for the same things! How ironic can life really get?



Then, I looked up, still dizzy and reeling from all of these Coelho realizations running around in my deviant mind, and my eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. My hair is straight! No longer sporting the ugly, big waves with frizz sticking out on all directions, it’s straight! I want to laugh out loud. I want to get up and dance in the middle of the salon, and I want to jump like I did when I finally found out I passed my first accounting subject after three tries. Not everyone will like it but I don’t care what others say, they didn’t spend all their life with frizzy hair. Believe me, I’ll chalk this one up to life’s small pleasures.



6 hours after, I emerged from the salon, fully self-conscious about my new hair, and almost always catching myself in the verge of a full-blown smile. I got home, still giddy, still excited, and I got online immediately, wanting to get my daily dose of Harry and Draco, and got another little surprise. Let’s just say, I was acting like a teenager, and I’m already 28. I guess that’s just a number, and really, it doesn’t mean that much (okay, someday I can fully convince myself of that!).



And so, I ended the day watching my favorite people in the world, Jai, Carson, Kyan, Ted and Thom makeover another guy, said my prayer of thanks and my 3 wishes to God, who’s probably wondering if I got His message for the day, and promptly went to sleep with a smile on my face, keeping that message inside and hoping it'll be with me a lifetime.



Good thing I didn't do too much damage to my hair. :-)