There are lots of things that I needed to do when I got home from Wales. I needed to unpack, do laundry, clean and organize my room, plan an entire summer youth program in three weeks, and take a really big poop. I did all of those things but unpack. I’m one of those people who can happily live out of a bag for months on end just because it’s easier. I also a needed a hair cut. While I was in Wales, I actually got a really nice haircut from a girl who went a little crazy and gave me bangs. Thankfully, the bangs looked good and all was well.
Until my hair grew out again and turned into a crazy, thick, curly mass of a beast that wrapped itself around my skull.
So one weekend I called the usual salon where I get my hair cut and have this conversation:
Me: Hi, can I book an appointment with Kat?
Person on the Phone: Yeah sure, what time can you be here?
Me: Any time after 1?
PotP: Ok. How does 2pm sound?
Me: That sounds great!
PotP: All right, we’ll see you then.
Me: So that’s 2pm with Kat right?
PotP: Yes, 2pm with Kat. See you later!
Now, I’m thinking that Princess (Obviously not her name) is going to cut my hair. Princess has been cutting my hair ever since I was a kid. She knows what to do with my hair. She doesn’t take any crazy liberties with my hair. She just cuts it so that it’s healthy and happy and so that I’m happy and not going to shave my head in anger. Which almost happened once. Instead my sister accidentally gave me a mullet trying to fix my crazed chopping. But that’s another story for another blog!
I showed up to the salon and Princess was busy, I figured I’d be going after she was done with the person she was with. Except I wasn’t. The other lady who cuts hair at this salon, NotPrincess, greeted me and told me to sit down in her chair. I was confused. I was worried. NotPrincess has a proven track record of taking liberties with my hair that I’ve never been a fan of. I thought that Princess was cutting my hair. Apparently I was wrong.
Now, if you’ve ever seen Legally Blonde 2, you should know that I should have spoke up for myself. I should have said no to whatever was about to happen to me. I should have said no to my proverial bob with bangs. Except I didn’t. I didn’t want to hurt my stylist’s feelings. I didn’t want to cause any drama. Mostly, I just didn’t want to hurt this lady’s feelings. So in the blink of an eye, I decided that there was no way she could mess up a trim and thin and I sat down in that chair.
Half an hour later I walked out of the salon with a too tight French braid and hair that had been cut four inches instead of the needed two. I immediately took out my new awkward hairstyle that made my face look chubbier than usual so that I could pull my hair into my favourite side-braid. Except, I noticed that my braid was a bit thin. Though I didn’t really think anything of it because I’d just gotten my hair thinned.
As it turns out, you can mess up a simple trim and thin. I discovered this when I next got out of the shower and noticed that my hair was shorter in places that it wasn’t supposed to be short. In fact, the entire to layer of my hair looked like someone had stuck a bowl on my head and hacked it off while leaving the bottom layer at full length. It looked ridiculous. I was upset. So upset that I called the salon and asked to speak to Princess to see if there was anything we could do to make it look better. There wasn’t. The best she could suggest was waiting for my hair to grow out so she could even it out later.
Thankfully, hair grows.
Which is a good thing because that first week I looked like I had a mullet. Yes, a mullet. It was awful and I actually cried over how bad my hair looked. I also felt really stabby about it. How the hell was cutting my hair like this a good idea? The only explanation that I can think of is that NotPrincess grabbed some very dully scissors when she meant to grab the thinning scissors and that’s how I wound up with a wonky layer of hair.
It’s been a month and a half since I got my hair cut and I’ve since figured out how to style the weird layers of hair that I have. Still, every day I look in the mirror and debate shaving my head just to even it all out. Sometimes it legitimately seems like the best thing to do.
Except I have a lumpy skull. Ain’t no one wanna see a lumpy skull.
So instead I look in the mirror every day and wonder if it’s long enough for me to go in and have it fixed yet.