I was finally able to get my hair done today. I don't have a "regular" hairdresser that I'm loyal to. I haven't been loyal to a hairdresser since I was in my 20's. Even her, I wouldn't say that I loved how she did my hair. I would say that I loved her. We had a blast when I went, telling stories, BS'ing, laughing, and joking around.
Since then, I don't think I've been to the same person twice. I never like what they do to my hair enough to go back a second time. No one seems to be able to do what I want. Getting my hair done has become a chore, but today, it was worse than that. Today, it was TORTURE.
I showed The Torturer a picture in one of their books of the style I wanted, and explained that my hair is very thick and I need something shorter for the summer that is low maintenance. Then, I mentioned the multiplying grays, and we decided to do highlights. Then, the torture began. Let me start by saying that we hardly said more than two sentences to each other the whole time. I figure why bother telling someone my life story who I am probably never going to see again? I would much rather sit back, relax, and let my mind wander. Yea, relaxing it was NOT. There are times when I really, really wish that people could read my mind, and there are other times when I am really, really glad that they can't.
This is how the experience went - in my head...
*Wait, isn't she going to wet my hair first, before she cuts it?...Nope, apparently not...Oh well, she knows what she is doing...I asked for someone experienced, after all...Hey!...Ow!...Why is she pulling at my hair like that?...Ow!...It feels like she is yanking each piece out...Ow...Ow...Ow...WTF?!...This hurts worse than tweezing!...Ow...Ow...Ow...Ow...GDit, what is she doing?...Ow...Ow...Ow...Man, that's a lot of hair on the floor...Ow...Ow...Ow...This really isn't looking too good so far...Ow...Ow...Ow...Give it time, she knows what she's doing...Maybe I'll just close my eyes, so I can't see how much she is cutting off...Ow...Ow...Ow...Don't need to panic...OW!WTF is she doing?...I'll just open my eyes a minute, and...OMG, that looks ridiculous!Holy Crap! What did she do?!*
The Torturer asked "How do you like the cut?"
*JC! GDit, that's it?! That's what it's going to look like?! I might shoot myself!*
I said, "Um, I thought it would be fuller in the back. All the fullness seems to be at the top. It's not what I expected".
The Torturer answered, "Well, it will look different once I put the highlights in."
I said, "Oh, okay. Good". *Yea, good, because if it looks like THIS, I will KILL you".
The Torturer goes to mix the color, then comes back and starts applying it.
*What is she doing to my...oh, okay, she wants me to tilt my head this way, so she can reach the top....Maybe I should scrunch down some, I'm so tall, and she is so short, she probably is having trouble reaching the top of my head...Geez, that's uncomfortable...You'd think they could buy more comfortable chairs...What is digging into my back?...OW! Hey lady, my neck doesn't exactly tilt that way!...Yea, that's really uncomfortable...Man, I hate getting my hair done!...What is she...Ow, you're hurting my neck, Beeatch!...Ow! I swear, if she grabs my face and twists my neck one more time, I'm going to...OW! I'm going to kill this woman...Why is this taking so long?...She cut so much GD hair off, it shouldn't take this long to highlight it...Ow, MY MF'in NECK!...Oh, thank God, she's done*
The Torturer took me over to the sinks. She took a few of the clips out near the top, then pulled my head down to rest in the sink.
*Wow, my neck is really hurting, and this GD clip that is digging into the back of my neck certainly isn't helping...Wait, where is she going? She didn't say anthing, she must be coming right back...My neck is killing me...I'll just lift my head for a minute to stop this clip from digging into my...OMG my head is so heavy I can't even lift my head out of this stupid sink!...Where is she?!...Oh, good, here she is, she's taking more clips out now...I must be done...Thank God!...I don't know how much longer I could have...Where the F is she going?!...Come back!...AARRGGGHHH...MY NECK!...Okay, I need to focus on something else...Like in the Lamaze classes I took...That will work...Okay, I'm on a warm, sunny, beach and Matt Damon is bringing me pina coladas...and he better be massaging my neck because MY NECK IS KILLING ME!!!...Well, that didn't work...This is worse than childbirth...I might die here...GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!...Oh! Here she is!...She's going to take the clips out!...Oh, good, now she can rinse my hair and I'll be done...AAAAHHHH!!!! COLD WATER!!!COLD WATER!!!...She is evil, and she is just messing with me now...WTF?!...She's putting something else in my hair?!...NOOOOOO!...If you leave me again, you MFer I will...WAH, HA, HA, I HATE HER...I think I'm delirious from the blood rushing to my head for so long...I really don't think I'm going to be able to lift my neck when she's done...Here she is!...COLD WATER!!COLD WATER!!!BEEEAAATTTCCCHHH!!!*
The Torturer finished rinsing my hair, then lifted my neck up from the sink. I heard a crack, and felt light headed. I stumbled to her chair in a confused stupor.
*Okay, I like the highlights, but she better fix my hair...A LOT...OMG, I look like a boy...I look like one of the Beatles...This is NOT what the picture looked like...Why do I do this to myself?...I'm never getting my hair cut again...If she thinks I am tipping her she is very very wrong...I HATE this...CRAP! GDit, I look like a MF'in BEATLE!!...
The Torturer asked, "Do you like it?"
I answered, "Uh, No, not really. It's not what I thought it would look like".
The Torturer said, "Well, I did what was in the picture".
*NO YOU DIDN'T YOU BEEAATTCCHH!* "I'll just have to get used to it, I guess". *What I mean, you stupid F, is that luckily it will grow back, and I'll never have to see you and your torturous hands again!*
Right now, you're saying, "Gee, Jen, what do you really think of your haircut?" I.HATE.IT, and NO, I am NOT posting a picture.