Wednesday, August 18, 2004
I needed a haircut. Bad. Yesterday, I hit that all-too-familiar haircut plateau where you look in the mirror, one morning, and you can hardly stand yourself. UGH. That was me. I was almost ashamed to go to work, but I managed. I had looked worse. I knew today was the day for a haircut because not only did I make an appointment, but I ran out of hair product. I am a minimalist with most things, but I need hair product. I have thick, very short hair. Without it, I am one fuzzy head. When a person has short hair, they need trims every four weeks. I would like them every week, but my pocket book won't allow it.
I tend to get attached to my hair stylists. Before I moved to Iowa, I went to Tonya. She was hard on me. She would get after me if I waited that one more week where my hair was just embarrassing. She also shamed me if I would use a box highlighter kit. Then, I moved to Iowa where Cindy cut my hair. She was very nice and never "put me in my place" when it came to my hair choices. She even encouraged me to grow my hair out even when it has never been a good idea for me. And when I came to tell her to cut it really short, she did not care about the long-term hair plan on which she had worked so hard. Well, now Cindy has moved to Indiana and I was left to find a new stylist. My new woman in my life is Jessica. She was recommended by a friend and she did just fine. Why am I so self-absorbed to think that only one stylist can cut my hair and I cannot stray? I think this is an opportunity to test the field with my stylists. Sow some wild hair oats. Who knows, I might meet my soul stylist?
Posted by Sara at 4:36 PM