Hairy Situation

A lot of people have been mentioning to me that I should put up a picture of myself. I've thought about doing it a few times before, but I have to say that I enjoy the anonymity that I have afforded myself by not putting up any pictures. Nobody can base whatever they may think of me on anything but my writing alone, and that's perfectly nifty by me. However, I have been posting about losing weight, and needing to buy new clothes, and various what-have-yous about personal transformation over the last few months, so I felt I owe it to everyone to finally post a picture of where I am so far in this whole process.

CLICK HERE.

Oh, I'm sorry. You were expecting...?

It's no secret that I have been wanting to cut my hair for some time. The Dude has been greatly opposed to it which really made me want to do it even more because I really don't like it when people don't want me to do something. The child in me then says, "Oh, yeah? 'CAUSE I'M GONNA!!" My boyfriend when I was 18 found this out when I hauled off and got a perm after he told me he didn't think I should. "Oh, yeah? 'CAUSE I DID!" Nevermind that it turned out a tad french-poodle-lightsocket-ish. JUST NEVERMIND THAT.

Anyway. I've had short hair the majority of my life, and I think I wore it well. As my body has expanded in the last few years, I've tried to grow my hair into some sort of Six-Chin Camouflage. Well, if I'm stuck with this body, I might as well have hair like Rapunzel. That'll be something going for me. Problem is, once my hair made it a tad past my shoulders after trying to grow it for YEARS because it refuses to grow at normal hair-growing pace, it was just a big mess of stringy thinness and started taking on that cotton-candy wispy appearance. Which, HELLO, I'm trying to save that look for old-age! I kind of figured that now, since my collarbone has been on something of a comeback tour in recent months and I'm down to two chins, maybe I could cut that mess off and suddenly become just about the cutest thing since liquidy puppy eyes. Since I am very much a spur-of-the-moment, I-want-it-NOW kind of chick, I immediately headed over to the local discount haircutting place. I have a lady, "C.", who is PHENOMENAL and who has done my hair twice (once thanks to gift certificates from my bosses) at a regular salon, but it's $50 for a haircut from her ($60 'cause I'm a big fan of good tips for good service) and I just can't afford that right now. So, armed with my lie of "My old hairstylist was in town!" for the inevitable trip back to C. to fix it, I popped into the cheapo chain for my fab new look.

Here's a tip: if your stylist is so baby-faced that she/he makes a toddler look old, you might want to think about getting someone else. I mean, how much experience could a child really have? We all know that children have some experience in this area because cutting their own or their doll's or someone else's hair (like a pesky little sister, for ince) is pretty much a requirement for being a little kid. However, that doesn't necessarily indicate a dazzling career in coiffure down the line. Sadly, I'm guessing the little Sally Hershberger wannabe I went to didn't get that message. Let's just say that halfway through the massacre, Lawnmower [wo]Man piped up with, "Omigawd, isn't this fun?!? This is totally only the second short hair cut I've ever done, and the first one doesn't count because it was a guy." Okay, can we get some antacids over here, STAT??? And possibly a call into 911??? 'Cause someone here - either Malibu Barbie or myself; I haven't decided which - is gonna die. I then made the smart decision to ask - because I had to know and HELL, half of my head was snatched bald already, anyway - "So...uh...only the second short haircut you've ever done, huh? Um...gee...ahh...how long have you been doing this?" "Well, I've only been at this location a week because usually I'm at the other store, but I've already been out of beauty school almost three weeks." "Three WEEKS??????"

And...scene.

That was a month ago. Today, I give you Richard Dreyfuss, ala Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And believe me, the alien reference is NOT lost on me. I'm fully aware that I no longer rock the short haircut like I used to, and had I truly realized what a gnarly mess of curly-yet-straight-yet-wavy ridiculousness was waiting for me on the other side of Malibu Barbie's barely-used shears, I dare say I probably would not have had it cut. Chopped. Mangled. Left for dead.

Nevermind that Scott begged me not to do it. JUST NEVERMIND THAT.

Think C. will take me back?