The spoiled Haircut-ee

After some investigating, I found a new Salon here at home that has a good reputation (among the Madre’s friends). In need of a hair cut, I decided to check it out. I will say I was a little apprehensive, as we all know that I loooved (and to remind you…had a little crush on…) the guy who cut my hair at school. But, someday I have to move on. *sigh*

I got there a little bit early, and she took me in right on time. One point for the new girl (sidenote: it’s a little weird having a girl cut your hair after finally getting used to the guy…hmmm). While she washed my hair, she gave me a head massage. Uhhh….10 points! Here I am just trying not to fall asleep before I have to get up and move to a different chair. Soooo relaxing.

I tell her exactly what I want, she gets it. She goes to work. As she does different things, she gives me a little tutorial on why and what it will do for my hair. Kinda weird, nobody has ever explained technique to me. I don’t really care, as long as I don’t look like a chainsaw was taken to my head. But okay, interesting.

Things are generally going well. She did seem like she was kind of rushing it though. The Crush used to allot an hour for every appointment. He usually “cut” for about 30, dried, and then “polished up” for about 10. She cut for about 10-15, and then drops the bomb….

“Okay, I’m done with the cut for now, so I’m just going to stick you under the dryer and switch you out with her (other woman, who is currently ‘under the dryer’) and finish up her style really quick! Is that okay?!  Then I’ll finish your style. Alright!“

Umm, was any of that a question? Do I get a choice of being shoved into that scary dryer thing?? Nope, I sure don’t. Seriously, those things kinda freak me out. And they make your head reallyyy hot! Not cool. But the next thing I know I’m sitting underneath the heat wave, with my hair slowly drying, flipping through a Glamour magazine.

One question–what is the purpose of making an appointment, when you are just being ’switched out’ anyway?! Couldn’t I just walk in and say–

“Hi I’m here! So, whenever you are ready to dry that person’s hair I’ll just slip right in. Okay?!“

Gah. The only good thing was that I was flipping through a Glamour. The new one. Sweeet.

So once my hair is dry and she’s “ready” for me again, I hop back in the chair. She starts to finish drying my hair and using that big curly brush thing (SO scared of those. I always get my hair stuck in the little ones.). She starts styling it, which I do appreciate. When a guy cuts your hair you kind of skip this step, seeing as they don’t really “style”. Or at least, my crush didn’t. But I loved him anyway and my hair somehow always looked like he had styled it. Hmmm, maybe he was sneaky about it and I didn’t even realize he was doing it. Oooh! Never thought about that. Anyway! Mid-styling, her cell phone rings.

And she ANSWERS it.

Okay, I hate when stylists are ‘fitting me in’ along with somebody else. But guess what I hate even more? When they answer their f-ing cell phones. Guess who never did either of these things?? The crush.

Ugh, I am so spoiled.

In the end, my hair looks cute, the “style” is cute, and I did get a little head massage. She was super nice, and easy to talk to (important characteristic. Otherwise I feel very awkward just sitting in silence while somebody is in charge of how I will appear when I walk out….).

I’m totally satisfied, but just a little irritated. And left wondering….will I ever find somebody as wonderful as the Crush?

The New Do

My hair hasn’t been “short” in over three years.

All I told hair-crush was that I didn’t want bangs, and I had to be able to pull it up……

This is what my hair looked like last weekend.

This is what my hair looks like now.*

It’s short. It’s bouncy. It’s alive! When my hair gets that long, it starts to feel heavy and ‘dead’ after a while. My head feels so much lighter. I also learned a little lesson last night while I was getting ready: when your hair is short, you use a lot less shampoo. and conditioner. and time fixing it up. It’s lovely.

LB says it makes me look older. Which is good in my case, because I usually get the questionable stare when I hand a bouncer my ID. Add in the fact that it’s from a state across the country, and you get five minutes of me standing there while they decide whether or not I’m actually 21.

We’re starting off the weekend at the Navy Ball tonight. This means two things-I finally get to wear the BCBG dress that I bought in February (Yay!!!!!!), and I get to play around with the new style and see what it looks like all fancyyyy!

In the words of Bobby:

“New haircut. Same attituuude.”

Happy weekending!

*((Apologies for the rectangle across the face. I realized that I’ve never put a picture of myself on this little blog before, and decided I’d keep at least a little ‘annonymity’.
The pic in the “About me” doesn’t show eyes, soooo, these don’t either.))

My Hair-cut Crush

Starting around age 8 and continuing through high school, there had only been one person who cut my hair. Once we started going to her, we never stopped. She did a few things I wasn’t crazy about, but that never changed the fact that I trusted her and only her. Just because.

Then came college.

I chopped it off right before I left home, just for something different. It was kind of a shocker, but I figured at least it would give me time to grow it out. I knew I wouldn’t find somebody I liked as much as her to cut my hair in this little town, so I didn’t really try…..Aside from one disaster freshman year…we won’t get into that. So, I just waited 4 months at a time. My poor locks probably hated me for it, but that didn’t stop me. Plus, what college freshman has the $$ to pay for a decent haircut?  NOT me. Nope nope. The stubbornness set in, and that was that.

Then came Junior year.

SJ’s (roomie) parents had moved to the town officially over the summer.  Her mom was trying to get settled in and figure out her ‘places’. You know, where’s the gym? what will be my favorite grocery store? who will cut my hair?! These are very important priorities. Well, she found a cute little Salon that was only about half a mile up the street from our apartments. We never even knew it was there. It’s hidden in an office building, in a first floor suite.

I had really been wanting/needing a trim.  As much as I did love the lady from home, I finally accepted that she really wasn’t the best.  I trusted her, and was comfortable with her, but sometimes I really didn’t like how it turned out. It was time to step out of the zone, and try something different. SJ’s mom loved this place, so I thought I’d give it a try.

For the first time in my LIFE, I had a guy cutting my hair. He just happened to have an opening the day and time that I wanted my appointment to be, so that’s who I was scheduled with. Obviously I had no preference, since I’d never been to the place before. I thought it would probably be awkward, and that it probably wouldn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, so I went with a simple “I just need you to even things out”.

Well, well. I could not have been more wrong. He was from Georgia, with a lingering cute little Southern accent. He knew exactly what I wanted once I actually opened up a little bit. He knew exactly how to cut my hair so it would do what I wanted it to. I sat in his chair for almost an hour, as he cut-trimmed-dried-admired-dried-trimmed-perfected. I was in awe.

At home my appointments were never more than half an hour, and she was usually running late. So it was always a little rushed. She even answered her cell phone while cutting my hair one time. Um, yah. Enough said.

When he was finished doin’ his thing, he gave me a mirror and asked my opinion. I LOVED IT. And that’s all I had to say. It’s perfect! Thank you! I love it! I left on a hair-cut high. I was so happy. You know when you can’t stop fondling your own hair? I totally had a hair-cut crush. I couldn’t wait for my hair to grow out a little bit so I could go back again! Plus, I finally knew what it was like to have a quality hair cut. So professional and stylish and faaabulous.

Obviously we now have a hair-cut affair. All of my roomies have gone to him since, and are equally in “love”.   I have an appointment tomorrow, and it will be our last rendezvous, *sigh*. For the first time ever I plan to sit in the chair, and say “Do what you want. I trust you”. Mostly because I just want something different and won’t ever actually go for it, and also because I really do trust him. We’ll see what he comes up with…..