Sigh. I lost my mind this week. Saturday night to be exact. I am still trying to figure out what got into me. I cut my own hair. Never, never, never a good idea. I'm not talking a little trim. I'm talking massive hair lossage.
I haven't had a professional haircut since April. My hair has just grown and grown, like Rapunzel. It was long and super shaggy. There was absolutely no style to it whatsoever. If I didn't curl it it was Mennonite hair (without the little white cap). That's fine if one is a Mennonite. I am not. I was feeling a little too country girl, I guess.
Also, I am not a fan of the super long hair on old women. From behind, they look all young and sexy then, they turn around and, BAM! It's hard to look away from such a dichotomy. Also, it is a bit scary, as if your very own eyes are playing tricks on you.
I wanted some sexy movement in my hair. So, I cut it short around my face. Poofta! My hair poofed up, framing my face with thick, brown apostrophes. Not my best look. Then, to alleviate this heavy look, I cut some of the hair in the middle, creating bangs. My husband told me not to, but a little devil possessed my scissor hand. Bangs. My super long hair in the back looked stupid now, kinda like "party in the back" 70's hair. So I wacked that off just below the shoulder. Five pounds of hair -- into the trash bin.
"Agh!" I've never heard my husband scream before. He wasn't joking. That was his lizard brain response. Scream, cover eyes, quickly turn away. My lower lip trembled like it hasn't since I was about five years old. Twenty-five years together, and he couldn't control himself. I could tell he knew he had screwed up. Spouses have an arsenal of 'supportive phrases' that by a quarter of a century are as easy to access as excess ear and nose hair. (If I could cut that off and glue it on my head, I would).
All I could do was crawl into bed, and hope that when I woke up, I would discover that it was all a bad dream. When it turned out to not be a bad dream, I swallowed my pride and explained myself to the hairdresser I hadn't seen in months. She told me she could make it all OK. But, after an hour it was another two pounds lighter, and much, much shorter. It's hair. It will grow back. I just wish I could stay in bed until that happens.
When my husband saw my new do, he didn't hesitate, "That looks good -- it's sexy".
May peace and a true love be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.