That Girl Moment #864: "HAT Girl."

If any of you have ever seen the Disney program "Wizards of Waverly Place" then you know about the special hat song Selena Gomez and her BFF love to sing.

It goes a little somethin' like this:












in case you didn't catch those peotically electrifying lyrics, here they are.

What's that?
A hat.
A crazy funky junky hat!
Overslept
hair unsightly
trying to look like Keira Knightley.
We've been there
we've done that
we see right through your funky hat!

(hey, people, just cause I love me some Wizaahds of Wavuhwy Pwace, as my niece Hannah used to call it, does NOT mean that I am heathen who believes in magic. Oh, that reminds me of a song....doyoubelieveinmagicinayounggirlsheart? dah dah dee dah dah...)


So why am I sharing this song with you?
That Girl, a la hat.



Today I was running late to my eight am class (what's new: the earth would collapse if I got someplace on time) as usual, and the night before I wore a hat to church. Said hat was found in the back of my Gnome Village car. It's the cutest little plaidish Vurt hat...looks great with my brown shirt.

Since I was running late due to (gasp) procrastination on a paper, I didn't shower this morning. Now I would like to say in my own defense, my beautiful friend Brooke can go a blasted WEEK without washing her hair and she still could grace the cover of People.

not me.

My hair looked like the Clampetts might strike gold on my scalp, if you know what I mean. Texas Tea. It was oily, brothers and sisters. Oily=lack of volume. I was giving off the poor seminary street urchin vibe, alright?

Well, what's That Girl to do?

Mother Nature leaves me with no real options. But Pac Sun doesn't fail! So I plopped my Vurt hat on the oil slick and darted out the door. I arrived at my Psychological Foundations of christian Education class at promptly 8:08 am (early for me, folks) and sat down to learn with, as they say, a spirit of idealism and charity.

Fast forward two hours of this three hour class. The moment arrives.

The That Girl Moment.

oy vey.

Someone raps on our classroom door. It's none other than Dr. Ray Barber.

woops.
I mean President Ray Barber. As in, university-president-who-is-greatly-respected-highly-admired-and-hired-that-girl-unassumingly.

But it's not just President Barber. Filing in the classroom behind him were two men.

one of which held a VIDEO camera in his hand.

President Barber greeted us and asked if he could interview us on camera for the Oak Leaf Society Banquet. This is the humdinger of all the banquets, where they thank all those who donate to OCU. Some of them give (and I'm grateful) a lot of Benjamins to see that I get a quality education. (insert That Girl's most elegant curtsy.) This year, Dr. Barber wants to show a video of real-live students who benefit from the generosity of the Oak Leaf attendees.

let's just say I didn't disappoint with the "real-live" aspect of his little documentary. I think artists and moviemakers call it "gritty."

I apologized to him and said if I knew he was coming I would have dressed up. The sweet Godly man tried to make me feel better, but we both know he sees right through my funky hat. I now face the Epic dilemma:
take off the hat and reveal not only the aforementioned oil slick, but bad hat hair to boot, or leave the hat on and risk offending some Oak Leaf folk. I left it on. I didn't want the video camera to bust its lens from the gleam of my TREMENDOUSLY OILY shiny hair. Yah gots tah do whatcha gots tah do.

The interview, aside from my disheveled and lackluster appearance, went very productively and I got to share part of why I love OCU. I didn't tell them I enjoy OCU for the eight o'clock classes because that would have been an extraordinary falsehood. Obviously. He sees right through my funky hat.

ahem.

After class, I had a few minutes to kill so I jumped in the shower and did a quick blowdry on the hair. I changed out my jeans and t-shirt since I was heading to work. On my way into the building, who am I greeted by?

yep. you guessed it.

Doc should his head at me and laughed. "Now you get all dressed up!" he said. He told my boss, Jim, about it and we all had a good laugh. I said I'd totally be up for preparing a take they can actually use on Oak Leaf night.
sans hat.
Jim reminded me that I would be forced to watch my own self, funky hat and all, at the Oak Leaf dinner, which I was invited to attend at the behest of said stately and dignified Prez. (that's a big, filet mignon, kind of deal.)
For a moment, I was petrified. Frozen in fear. Not only will everyone be able to see right through my funky hat, I will be sitting among them as they do so. Worse, the camera adds ten lbs. or thirty-five if you ask me.

Then, it came to me like a beacon in the night.

I will be all decked out in my cute black dress that night, so maybe no one will recognize me. The last thing I need is a moniker like Hat Girl.


'cause after all, it's rough enough being That Girl.