Adventures in hair cutting
I guess I should elaborate, as I am wont to do on almost everything.
I've had BAD hair cutting experiences. Is it because I am not picky enough? I don't know.
My dad used to MAKE me get my hair cut. My wish was for long hair, but when it was the only time I spent with him, I didn't push it too hard. My mom was always asking why I didn't just tell him. I think I did, but he didn't care?
I don't know. He knew I didn't like it very much, somehow.
I know this because one day when I was supposed be getting a hair cut, I woke up with a stiff neck. I told my dad this, and he said that I was faking it (oh, I was SO upset by that when I was younger, in retrospect, and after having my own kid, I understand.) and that I was getting my hair cut.
I was not faking it, and instead had uneven hair until the next time.
Then my stepbrother stuck gum in my hair and my stepsister had to cut a whole chunk out of the back of my hair. =( I'm sure I looked awful.
Then, as a teenager, it seemed like I only wanted my hair short and my mom didn't. (talk about control issues, it's my damn hair) I swear, she liked it long so that she could pull it easier when I annoyed her. When I ran away, that was one of the first things I did. Along with coloring it, I went and cut my own hair. I have no idea how, seeing as how I can't SEE the back of my head, but whatever. Apparently, I did a good enough job for me, and no one ever seemed horrified. Though the next time someone cut my hair, they said something about who cut your hair last time?
Of course it wasn't even.
That wasn't particularly traumatic for me, as I did it to myself.
Then, right before New Year's one year, my Aunt cut my bangs for me. She cut them to about...3/4 of an inch? I looked HORRIBLE. I cried in the closet for at least an hour. She felt horrible, and I didn't care at all. I was SO pissed. Then I got over it, and realized it would grow back. I've cut my bangs almost exclusively ever since.
Then I let Ben cut my hair...which he HAD done before and did a fine job. But this last time he was like...oh, it would be really easy if we gathered the hair into a ponytail and cut it. (I was thinking, in my head, BAD IDEA.) But he's so smart, and I didn't want to second guess him, so I said nothing.
I had a "reverse mullet" then. Short on the top, long on the bottom. Not even at all. Luckily, Becca called right at that moment, or I would have spent some more time in a closet, crying. Instead, I went outside and smoked a few cigarettes and talked to her until I calmed down.
Then I let him even it out. And my hair was SHORT. It wouldn't even pull easily back into a ponytail, which is practically a requirement when I get my hair cut. It needs to be able to pull back and get the hell out of my face. I wish I could pull off a short cut, but I don't have the patience for maintenance.
And obviously, I have little trust in hair cutters, so it's not like I want to get it trimmed every damn 6 weeks.
Instead, I have to deal with longer hair. But I'm thinking closer to shoulder length is good for me. This long is not good, and I like the blonde, but it only adds to the viciousness that is my hair right now.
I used two applications of V05, and my hair was ALMOST manageable this morning. Last night it felt pretty good, and I braided it so that it wouldn't get tangled. Well, I couldn't do crap with my hair in the little amount of time I had, so I left it down while I took Derek to school. It was like it had a life of it's own. It almost was floating from the stiff wind. Right in front my face, it was floating as if suspended, and I swear, if it had anything strength, it would have strangled me right then and there. I mean, I guess I can't blame it. I hurt it by dying it, so perhaps it is just totally pissed at me right now?
I'm glad I pull it back at night, though it hardly stays. At least it hasn't strangled me yet.
Why do I feel like I'm starring in my own version of "Little Shop of Horrors"?
Only in my case, it would be Barber shop of horrors.
Where the hair floats in the breeze before it goes in for the kill. You'll be all like..how pretty and then it'll get you!
Watch out for the hair, people! I'm sorry if it attacks you next.
I've had BAD hair cutting experiences. Is it because I am not picky enough? I don't know.
My dad used to MAKE me get my hair cut. My wish was for long hair, but when it was the only time I spent with him, I didn't push it too hard. My mom was always asking why I didn't just tell him. I think I did, but he didn't care?
I don't know. He knew I didn't like it very much, somehow.
I know this because one day when I was supposed be getting a hair cut, I woke up with a stiff neck. I told my dad this, and he said that I was faking it (oh, I was SO upset by that when I was younger, in retrospect, and after having my own kid, I understand.) and that I was getting my hair cut.
I was not faking it, and instead had uneven hair until the next time.
Then my stepbrother stuck gum in my hair and my stepsister had to cut a whole chunk out of the back of my hair. =( I'm sure I looked awful.
Then, as a teenager, it seemed like I only wanted my hair short and my mom didn't. (talk about control issues, it's my damn hair) I swear, she liked it long so that she could pull it easier when I annoyed her. When I ran away, that was one of the first things I did. Along with coloring it, I went and cut my own hair. I have no idea how, seeing as how I can't SEE the back of my head, but whatever. Apparently, I did a good enough job for me, and no one ever seemed horrified. Though the next time someone cut my hair, they said something about who cut your hair last time?
Of course it wasn't even.
That wasn't particularly traumatic for me, as I did it to myself.
Then, right before New Year's one year, my Aunt cut my bangs for me. She cut them to about...3/4 of an inch? I looked HORRIBLE. I cried in the closet for at least an hour. She felt horrible, and I didn't care at all. I was SO pissed. Then I got over it, and realized it would grow back. I've cut my bangs almost exclusively ever since.
Then I let Ben cut my hair...which he HAD done before and did a fine job. But this last time he was like...oh, it would be really easy if we gathered the hair into a ponytail and cut it. (I was thinking, in my head, BAD IDEA.) But he's so smart, and I didn't want to second guess him, so I said nothing.
I had a "reverse mullet" then. Short on the top, long on the bottom. Not even at all. Luckily, Becca called right at that moment, or I would have spent some more time in a closet, crying. Instead, I went outside and smoked a few cigarettes and talked to her until I calmed down.
Then I let him even it out. And my hair was SHORT. It wouldn't even pull easily back into a ponytail, which is practically a requirement when I get my hair cut. It needs to be able to pull back and get the hell out of my face. I wish I could pull off a short cut, but I don't have the patience for maintenance.
And obviously, I have little trust in hair cutters, so it's not like I want to get it trimmed every damn 6 weeks.
Instead, I have to deal with longer hair. But I'm thinking closer to shoulder length is good for me. This long is not good, and I like the blonde, but it only adds to the viciousness that is my hair right now.
I used two applications of V05, and my hair was ALMOST manageable this morning. Last night it felt pretty good, and I braided it so that it wouldn't get tangled. Well, I couldn't do crap with my hair in the little amount of time I had, so I left it down while I took Derek to school. It was like it had a life of it's own. It almost was floating from the stiff wind. Right in front my face, it was floating as if suspended, and I swear, if it had anything strength, it would have strangled me right then and there. I mean, I guess I can't blame it. I hurt it by dying it, so perhaps it is just totally pissed at me right now?
I'm glad I pull it back at night, though it hardly stays. At least it hasn't strangled me yet.
Why do I feel like I'm starring in my own version of "Little Shop of Horrors"?
Only in my case, it would be Barber shop of horrors.
Where the hair floats in the breeze before it goes in for the kill. You'll be all like..how pretty and then it'll get you!
Watch out for the hair, people! I'm sorry if it attacks you next.
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