Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Going, going, gone.

So I haven't blogged in awhile. Duh, you can tell by the lack of posts. But, I don't like to complain when I blog unless its funny, then its fine. And I've had much to complain about and not in a funny ha-ha way. But I think I can find the humor now.

We'll start with the hair.

A guy with metal spikes in his head took all my hair away. Seriously. Its short. Super short. Short like I've never had it before. Short to the point where I burst out crying at the hair salon. Short where I was crying to the person who referred me to the hair salon. Short to where I cried to my boyfriend. Short to where I cried to my mom and one of her best friends. Short to where I own nothing that matches the haircut.

Here's what happened:

I love W. She's the best hairdresser ever. Seriously, she's an artist. I'll refer anyone and I've been trying to get my own mother to go to her. But, she's an artist who likes me with long hair. Its summer, I'm traveling to places with humidity and long hair just isn't what I want. So I went to the hairdressers of one of the women at work.

Salon by Maxime is really nice. They just got a well-deserved write-up in I think Lucky magazine. The salon has a great feel and the people there know what they're doing. M was kind enough to cut off my hair. And, I liked my haircut but I didn't love my haircut. So, for the price, I was going to keep trying new people. Then, I find out that W just moved to that salon. That's really cool. But triple digits for a haircut just isn't where I'm at right now.

One of my other friends at work, who's hair I really like, referred me to her hairdresser who litterally has metal spikes in his head. I have no issue with that....usually the more odd the tatoos and piercings the more seriously a hairdresser takes their "art." And, they're usually really nice too so all that works for me.

I brought in pictures of exactly what I wanted, had a full conversation with the guy, had the whole I'm-here-because-my-usual-hairdresser-won't-listen-to-me speech...we were good to go. Or so I thought. He cut & cut & cut, something I'm quite accustomed to. When he blew it dry the first time, it was perfect. He was checking the cut, I was pleased. So, when he raised scissors to thin out a bit more, I was calm and relaxed...until he cut 3 inches off the front.

My jaw dropped. We went from chin-length perfect to above-the-ear-oh-my-doG in 1 split second. I let him do the otherside (like I had a choice) and that was the end of the cut.

"Judging by the look on your face, you're not happy"

I was silent.

He rinsed out all the loose hair & wanted me to style it to make sure I was happy.

Happy? ALL of my hair is gone. Its not even close to the picture sitting right next to you while you were cutting. What part is there to be happy about?

Luckily I have three things going for me and those three things have calmed me down:

1. It is a cute haircut, not the haircut I wanted, but cute nonetheless.
2. I'm so fabulous that I can carry off hair this short.
3. The significant other likes short hair so he reassures me that if he doesn't love the cut, he'll just really like it.

So yeah, that's the drama of this past week. And yes Mark, there will be pictures as my cousin is getting married on Saturday and my family is flying in tomorrow. This hair will be well-documented.

1 Comments:

Blogger digital janitor said...

As long as there is plenty of documentation.

I say you give the cornrows another try. That was cool.

10:15 PM  

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