I'll get right to it... yesterday, I got my hair cut. I've never been a person that was really attached to my hair. In the past, it has gone from long to short, to shorter, to a new color, to yet again another color, only to maybe grow out a bit before I chop it off again. Carrie can vouch for all of this... as many of the times, she was on the other end of the scissors or hair color.
Anyway, that was the past. In the last year, I've been letting my hair grow out a bit and it finally was about shoulder length (which if you know me... that is a major accomplishment.) Also, if you know me, you know that my hair is thick and curly, and I do a lot of work to make it not so much that way. I've had enough of the 30 minute hair dry time plus straightener time. It's just too much work and by the time I'm done, I need another shower after all the heat. The last few days, I've been asking Blake what he thought about me getting a new "do". He said he thought it was a good idea. (read: It doesn't matter in the least bit to me what you do with your hair... after all it was some shade of PINK... accidentally... when I met you.) Ha... love that.
I found a picture online of a cut that I liked, sent it to my iphone, and headed to the beauty shop.
I laid back in the chair to get my hair washed, and the sweet Vietnamese lady said (in her broken english), "Your hair is so thick!" She wresteled with it and finally finished washing it. Then, I showed her the picture of the haircut that I wanted, and she replied... "Oh, it is spiky!"
Great, I'm super excited to get my hair cut by someone who has only described my hair as... "thick", and the haircut I want only as "spiky". Score...
Anyway, I went ahead with the haircut because in the back of my mind, I was thinking... I just hope she can get the cut close... and then I can fix it in my bathroom later.
She went to town cutting off something like 7 or 8 inches in the front and top and less in the back. In the end, I was covered in hair... and I mean it was everywhere.... everywhere. I hate that feeling.
When she finished cutting the hair, she began the styling process which only took 2 minutes (the whole reason for this cut). This is where this really got scary. I ended up with a "beautiful", perfectly combed puff ball. YIKES! I'm not a fan of that. I could see that the cut was pretty much what I wanted, so I told her not to worry to much about the styling... that I was headed straight home to take a shower to get all the hair off of me. I did consider going home, but I didn't have time, so I went to the nearest walgreens to get some hair goo and "mess it all up". By the time I picked Blake up from work, it was looking much better, like the "spiky" hair I was going for in the beginning.
All of this to say, I'm still not sure I'm sold on the back of my hair. It is a bit longer than I was thinking, but I'll try to live with it for a week or so before I "self chop" it off.
Last night, Blake asked me why I decided to get a new cut, and I replied... "I was bored with it."
He said... "You were bored, so you decided to get your hair cut. You need to find a hobby."
He always has a way to twist my words to say exactly what he wants them to say... ahhh... Oh well, he said he likes it.
Today's adventure: hair color. After getting this major cut, all of the blonde from the sun got cut off, so now I'm left with this drab blondish brown color. I'm not a fan. I have learned something from the past though. I will not be going for red... or doing this without a professional's opinion. I texted my amazing hairstylist friend, Christian, and asked her to tell me what color to get at Sally's. She told me what brand and shade to get... along with what developer and all that good stuff. It should be fun, and I promise to share pictures once it is all done. Stay tuned.