I needed a forum to vent, so, even though I said that I'm not going to blog anymore, for now at least, I'm writing this blog.
I am sad and furious.
I was watching America's Next Top Model (It will be hard to take anything I say after that seriously. I understand this.) and one of the girls got a haircut that I really liked. I thought, "Denice, that haircut would look great on you. It's perfect. It will show off your glasses well, and look super sheek. Go get a pair of scissors right now and see if you can make it happen."
It would not have been surprising if I'd jumped straight up and done this. I am not afraid of wrestling my own main, despite my stunning record of losses on that front.
But this time I said, "No, Denice, your hair's finally getting a little length to it, and this haircut might be a little out of your luck range. Go pay a professional."
So I did. I walked in and showed her the pictures of the hopeful top model that I'd put on my iPod. She glanced at them and told me to sit down. I left the iPod out for her, and even told her to feel free to pick it up and look at them again. She didn't.
For me, one of the worst things about another person cutting my hair, is that I have to take off my glasses, and the mirror is so far away. So, I really have no idea what's going on. I never have a chance to say, "Wo, that's going a little shorter than I want. Please refrain." Instead I just put my glasses on when she's done and think, "This doesn't really look the way that I expected it to."
That's about all that I thought while I was still in the salon. It wasn't until I was back home, and comparing the pictures of the modelling prodigy with my own reflection that I understood why it didn't look the way I expected it to. It was because it wasn't the same haircut. Where the model had lovely tapered bangs that angled down toward her eyebrows on one side, I had straight Frankenstein bangs that barely covered my hairline. And, the model still had some length in the hair on the top of her head, a clearly visible 4-5 inches at least, while mine had been shorn down to 2.5 inches, in the longest places.
In short, I asked for top model hair and instead she gave me a crew cut.
I know this is a lot of blog about getting a bad haircut, a human experience that probably each of us has had many times, but I'm so angry that she did this to me, and I'm sad. I'm sad, because I've spent the last year working on growing my hair out of the crew cut that I gave myself last year, and now I get to do it again, but by absolutely no fault of my own.
I'm trying to decide if I should go back to the salon and complain. I don't see how it could help. I mean, I'd probably get my money back, or a coupon, or something, but that's not what I want. I want my hair back.
Oh, the fury. The fury of me.