curl up & cry

i don't get my hair cut very often. i've fallen into this cycle of only getting it cut about once a year, usually in august or september when i can't stand just wearing it in a ponytail every day anymore. but the past few days i've been thinking i might splurge & get a whopping 2 hair cuts this year & off i headed this morning to the hair academy.

i know, i know, going to the hair school for your styling needs doesn't qualify as a splurge in most people's worlds, but i've always been a bit on the hair-adventurous side. and it's so cheap that i feel kinda good about myself & my contribution to our finances when i go for my $6 cut. i figure i'm helping the future hair stylists of america & doing my civic duty by potentially sacrificing my own hair for their learning needs.

so this morning i leave brooke & her friend at our house w/ chris so i can have the added luxury of getting a hair cut without brooke crawling around under the stylist's table or spinning around in nearby chairs to the consternation of the students and supervisors around us. i know it takes them like and hr & a half for a simple wash & cut, but she still could behave better. so this time i went out alone!

well, i got to the school & alas, the parking lot was empty. they are no longer open on saturdays. dang it. so i decided to head over to the little hole in the wall shop where chris gets his hair cut most of the time & decided to try out one of his ladies. i figured that at least these ladies have their degrees (i assume, i didn't ask to see proof) and years of experience, so surely they'd be fine on me. why did i have a bad feeling about this? i mean, i've cut it myself. i've had my friends cut it. i've shaved it bald. i've let students w/ practically no experience on anything other than a styrofoam head cut it. should be a breeze & probably faster too!

i should have known when i walked in & saw only men & geriatric women w/ seriously balding, permed hair doos. i should have looked at the woman who said she'd cut me & saw the way her hair was teased within an inch of it's life & sprayed till it was rock solid (bless her heart) that this was not where i needed to be. i should have listened to that little voice inside my head that was telling me to make an excuse about needing to get something out of my car & then burned rubber out of the parking lot. but no. i was a fool. i stayed.

so in a few minutes it was my turn. i got my hair washed in a tiny little sink that was sticking out of the wall & then the washing chair converted into the styling chair. my hair was dryed w/ a towel that was full of holes. there's dust & junk all over. i was on the lookout for bugs, but didn't thankfully didn't spot any out in the open.

she asked me what i wanted to have done & when i started to explain she said, "oh you don't want one of those ole swing bobs! i just hate those!" she was talking with a seriously country accent & wadding her face all up to show her disapproval. oh dear.

then she handed me the comb & told me to part it where i like it. okay, that's different, but maybe just considerate. she turned me toward the mirror, but i couldn't see any of myself except for a tiny corner of the top of my head because the mirror was blocked by a piece of paper that was trying to entice me to buy a raffle ticket. i kept reminding myself that this lady's been cutting hair for 26 years & she's been doing chris' for a couple years now quite sucessfully, so i didn't need to worry about what i couldn't see. finally she seems to be done & she asks me if the length looks right. well, how the heck should i know? i can't see myself! so i did a bit of a chicken neck thing till i found a way to see myself & saw that one side was almost an inch longer than the other. i pointed it out to her & wondered why she didn't just move & stand in front of me to see for herself if it was straight. isn't that what i was paying her for? i had to tell her 2 more times that it was still longer on one side.

she finally finishes & by now i'm thinking that i won't even tell her that's it's still longer on that one side because i just want to get out of there! i can try to fix it myself at home. after going to the hair school for years i'm used to having to do a bit of hair repair on myself when i'm done getting a cut. then she wants to know how i usually style it. i told her put something in it for volume & then blowdry it with a brush. she says, "oh honey, i don't have one of those." i seriously laughed. cuz i thought she was joking. nope. she didn't have a brush. while she was blowing me dry, she repeatedly smacked me in the head w/ the hair dryer while she was hollering through the "salon" to talk to an old man across the way. i don't think she even looked at me once while she was drying my hair, but she did managed to poke me in the eye w/ one of her big fake fingernails in between head bonks! when's the last time that thing was sterilized? i hope i don't get some kind of fungus in that eye now! finally she was done & i paid her, including a good tip, primarily because i didn't have change & didn't want to wait for her to go & hopefully find some for me. i just wanted to bolt for the door.

at home i realized that the layers are just plain awful. the back is longer than the front even though i said i wanted it the other way around. it's not good at all. my remedial help has improved things so that i can show my head in public, but i hope no one looks too closely.

so i'll chalk it up to a lesson learned. if there's no one in the shop who is a female younger than 50, i'll keep going! i'll listen to that little inner voice & protect my hair. protect my dignity. protect my husband from all the complaining i'll do if i'm ever stupid enough to get this bad a hair cut again!