Friday, July 15, 2005

TWO haircuts later...

Yes, yes, it's cute. NOW. I'm a bit TERRIFIED of what will happen tomorrow am when I try to style hair that's no longer than my little freaking finger. This is the shortest hair I've had since I got a bug up my butt and had three haircuts in three different salons in two different cities back in my college days.

You HAVE to know by now that I've got serious hair issues. Yes, there's better things to worry about in the world, country's leadership...but still, my hair my hair my hair. cripes. I had a very nice cut from Allegra. She styles it AGAINST my head, which drives me batty. I think she does it just because she knows I hate it, it does look good, but it physically pains me. I get home, hop in the shower, products, hair dryer and styling apparatuses later and I realize my hair's crooked. (Jildo, I swear I had actual flashbacks to that day when I ended up with a SERIOUSLY butch almost shaved do.) I ask my mom, "mom does this side of my hair look totally different than the other side?" I loved the right side, just a bit shorter than it was, flippy, cute and sassy as heck. The left side (the thicker side of my hair) looked like a damn long bob. Big, boxy, flat and dull. Mom suggested I go to her hair stylist to "fix things."

I tried to think of how to describe the feeling of when I'm having "bad hair issues". It's not like you can just stick a hat on it and be done, no. I think the closest thing is back on the original Indiana Jones movie. Remember when they're up on that hill and all the nazi's faces are melting off? OK, imagine the first tinglings of knowing that's going to happen to you in a second or two. THAT's HOW I feel when I'm having bad hair. seriously. That feeling causes me to be a bit rash once in a long while. SO I try to wait. I can't stand it. I'm waiting for the flesh to peel from my bones and the hair to grow and burst into flame. seriously. freaking out here. I call Allegra. I say, "Allegra, is it at all possible for you to chop a bit more on my thicker side sometime in the next few days?" She, realizing I will probably either pick up scissors myself or worried I'd do something drastic like go to a johnson county salon and end up with cookie cutter hair, says "Girl, get yourself back out here and I'll fix it up good." I pick up the kid, and we're off through the grandview triangle at rush hour on our way to the other side of the city to Independence. Yup that's how I celebrate the fact that gas is over $2.22/gallon.

ANYWAY, I made the mistake of saying, "doesn't this side look a little like a long bob?" Allegra hates the bob. (not that there's anything wrong with that) I was sporting a long bob about 6 years ago when she came to my rescue and said "Girl, you're stuck in the 80's" and gave me a $50 gift certificate to come in and cut hair or get a massage at the day spa she was at then. Instead of the 5 minute chop here and there, she got all fired up, put me back under the sink and re-chopped the entire head of hair, cut with scissors, cut with razor, cut with thinning scissors/razor combo thing, and finally used an electric trimmer. SO I am no longer sporting the longer bob-like half-do. Nope, I'm spiky headed SHORT haired chic. I know it LOOKS like it's not that short. It has "long pieces" that I'm supposed to "finger into place" that will stick up do to the bulk of my hair being about 2" long. I'm ok, no skin peeling any second feelings, but I do have a general sense of unrest. I'm also in my bro's wedding in 2 weeks, so hopefully it will grow long enough I can actually use a curling iron on parts of it by then.

YES I'm shallow, dammit. If you hadn't figured that out by now, tough.

On the knitting side of life, I don't quite know what the heck I was doing but I did this tonight. It should be interesting to see how it felts. It's a combo of 2 strands of black cascade bottom and top with leftover esperanza in the middle. Doesn't it look a bit like a southwestern pot? It's supposed to be a cute felted purse. I think it may end up being a felted spittoon. ok, that's just gross.

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