A Day of Mourning

That is right, my friends...I cut my hair yesterday and I am mourning the loss of my hair. I feel like a part of me has gone. Which is technically true...you should've seen all the hair that was on the floor when I got up to leave. :) However, this hair cutting experience was unlike any other and I'll tell you why. It started out like any other hair cut: the shampoo and conditioner (best part, in my opinion), the combing, the cutting...and usually some snide comment about how thick my hair is and how much of it I have. 'Yes,' I think to myself...this I know. Try taming it every morning :) Anyway, I'm sitting in the chair and it feels like I've been there for a while. Maybe I was just bored or something...or starting to get hungry, so the time was seeming to go by slowly. Nope...when I got out to my car, I realized that an hour and 45 minutes had gone by. What took her so long, you ask? Aside from her cutting really slowly, there were a number of things really...

1) She kept cutting herself. Call me crazy, but if you're about to graduate in two months, I would think that cutting yourself three times in almost 2 hours wouldn't be something I would have to worry about. :) The 'best' part was (I'm using that term loosely) that whenever she'd cut herself, she'd just keep right on going. After a couple of minutes, she would stop and dab her fingers with a paper towel and this could continue for about 5 minutes until she realized that it was necessary for her to get a bandaid. Like I said, this happened a grand total of 3 times during the hair cut. The funny part was, was that when she dropped the comb on the floor, she sterilized it. I find it strange that she thought it necessary to sterilize the comb after it had been on the floor, on top of my own hair, for 2 seconds and all the blood didn't bother her one bit. Who knows how much of that was on her scissors....ew ew ew. To add to the experience, at one point, she started just snipping at the hair around my neck but she wasn't holding my hair. She was just going at it with her scissors. Maybe its just me, but when you've just told your client that you're not on your 'A game' that day and she has seen the casualties, I wouldn't press my luck with an innocent bystander. Espeically one that will be tipping you (or not) afterwards...My jugular has never felt more exposed and in danger. I wonder if that's what Bella ever felt like....no, probably not. There's a huge difference between bloody scissors and a hot vampire. I'll take the vampire.

2) After she finished the haircut, she decided that she wanted to give me bangs. Apparently, the kind I had given myself were less than adequate. Probably true though...I'm no hair stylist. Anyway, she gave me the side kind that are thick and over to one side. However, she gave me so many that it looked retarded and very uneven, now that I think of it. She wanted to use me in her portfolio (that must mean my hair was NASTY before) haha....and so she took before and after pictures, and it was sad that as I was looking at the pictures, I was yearning for my old hair. After I styled it this morning though, and changed a few things, I think it wont take me as long to get used to as I thought. I'm still not quite there yet though. She also decided that it would be a good idea to thin my hair. Not anything new...I'm used to them taking chunks of my hair out, but this time, she did it the normal way of just snipping random places and then combing the hair out, but she also lifted up some hair and snipped some chunks out right at my scalp. Yeah, WOAH. If those hairs grow back spiky...well, to tell you the truth, I'll probably laugh, but still. I've never heard of anyone thinning my hair that way. It was a scary experience. (if any of you are noticing, I have a hard time with change...)

3) After she blow dried it and got it approved (silly me, I thought we were done), she was like, okay, now we'll flat iron and style it. By this time, my butt had thoroughly fallen asleep and my phone had gone off about 6 times and I was growing curious as to who was trying to so desperately get a hold of me. But, I decided to be patient. I figure, its better for her to take her time than to go quickly and mess it up. So anyway, she flat irons it and what do you know...she pulls out the comb and the hairspray. For those of you who aren't aware of a term called the 'Mormon pooch,' count yourselves lucky. Its the process of ratting the top layer of hair and then spraying it with hairspray so its huge. Its just the sort of thing that I have felt necessary to avoid during my time here in Happy Valley. I've been lenient...I've gotten on board with the layering shirts and you know...yeah that's about it. But seriously, giving me the Mormon pooch was going too far. It was kinda funny though, I'm not going to lie.

So there you have it...my experience of the week. Hopefully, I'll get used to my hair soon...its a lot shorter than I was expecting, and some of the layers are boy short almost...but I'm sure its not as bad as I think it is :) XOXO