It's All About The Hair

So I have decided to show that not only can I write boring and depressing posts I can also show my shallow and girly side. Yes, I have a girly side. Shut up! Just because it is usually MIA doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Sometimes.

My hair. I mentioned the other day that I got my hair cut. To most this may seem ordinary but for someone that can never spend the money on a hair cut it was huge. Also, my hairdresser is a friend and I must pay the (outrageous for me but not for most) price she charges to get all prettied up rather than attempt to spare a buck at the local Supercuts.

And we all know why I avoid the Supercut type places. Yes, about 25 billion million hundred ok maybe just about 25 bad haircuts. The last of which made me look like a boy with large breasts and took 2 years to grow out to a point where I could have it fixed.

Anyway, on to the good bits. The shampoo. The relaxation of no children present. No screaming. No phone calls with bad news. Just two friends getting caught up while she made me pretty.

And when it was all over and I loved my hair I mentioned how I always want to do choppy. Because choppy? It is oh-so-cute.

And do you know what she said? Just pick the broken shards of my heart off the floor right now. She said, "Without a lot of product and a lot of time with a flat iron, no, you can not do choppy. And we know you do not have that kind of time. But. You do wispy really well."

Now, you have to be told. I love her. I really do. I do not hold her honesty against her. But truthfully? I've been holding on to the apparently, and obviously delusional, false hope that someday with the right cut I could do choppy. Someone would invent a New and Magical haircut technique and my hair would transform and be textured and do choppy.

And right there? She crushed my hopes.

So the rest of the conversation consisted of me commenting how I despise wispy. And No, she was correct, I do not have that kind of time. Or patience. But that I let go unsaid because although she is not my closest friend, anyone who has even met me for more than 10 minutes knows, I do not have that kind of patience. Ever. Even for a big night out.

Big night out? What is that?

Where was I? Ah yes, wispy. Do you know what that means in haircutting terms? Do you? It means I shall spend my entire life with a variation of a bob. No, really. It's true. I may grow it long (aka flat). I may cut it short. I may have it any length in between but in the end - it will still be a bob. Stacked, tapered, wedged? Still a bob. That asymmetrical cut in my graduation pictures? Basically? Still a bob. And shut up - it was the late 80's. I was cool. Or not. But whatever. Bob. Bob. Bob.

I do like this variation of the bob though. And my face is recognizable in the mirror again. Still fat but it looks like me again.

MoMMY circa 1988 - graduation day