Today something terrible, frightening, nerve- racking, scarring, etc is happening to me. Something that only happens to me maybe once every two years…
….today, I am getting a haircut. A haircut, probably one of the top 10 riskiest things you can do in your life. If it turns out the way you wanted, great but it wasn’t worth all of the sweat. If it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it is a fate worse than death.
It is currently 10am EST, my haircut is in exactly 3 hours. I am waiting until after the hair murder to post this because if it doesn’t turn out well I plan on wearing my hair in a ponytail for at least 6 months and hope that no one notices it (and might not post this either). The only people who know I’m getting it cut are my mom, my boyfriend, and his mom (who, bless her heart, told me I had beautiful hair and I almost called that second to cancel the appointment). But I remained strong and so far, the appointment is still a go.
Here’s the thing, my hair really isn’t spectacular at all. It hangs to just about mid- boob, it’s naturally straight so there isn’t much I can do with it anyway, and I have split ends due to the lack of haircuts. Unless you are my mom then you have probably never even seen my hair all the way down. Okay, yeah guys I wear it down when I go out, I’m not a complete peasant, but at least part of the hair is always bobby pinned back because when hair touches my face it gives me anxiety. Most know the ponytail is my style of choice and it’s not even a good ponytail, it is a quite flaccid.
I want about a shoulder length cut which I haven’t had since I was like 5 so I have no idea what I’m going to look like. Probably horrible. Seriously every time I get a haircut it ends tragically and goes something like this:
Me- “Can you please just trim it? Seriously just like take off the dead ends and add some layers. Maybe just take off an inch.”
Hairdresser- “Oh sure, honey!”
*cuts off like six inches because that’s how much of it is “dead” as I stare lachrymose and hopeless at the giant chunks of hair falling to the floor*
(I’m really dramatic so it was probably more like 2 inches)
I don’t care how amazing your hair person is, something like this has definitely happened to you in your life. So today when I say “shoulder-length” I imagine her cutting it into a pixie cut and laughing like an evil scientist. In the midst of her laughs, the lights will be dim and all of the scissors will have blood on them. As this scene takes place she will be thinking “hahaha she doesn’t have the bone structure for a pixie cut AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”(1)
So here is what I would say to you if I was posting this before my haircut: at 1pm think of me. Think of me white-knuckling the arms of a twirly haircut chair, smock strangling my neck (and making my face look even chubbier than it is) with beads of back sweat rolling towards my ass, watching my beautiful (average- looking) locks gently float towards the ground. Think of that and pray for me.
Oh except you won’t be reading this before 1pm so you’ll be going on with your lives totally unaware that I am in a panicked state so powerful that my heart is close to stopping.
(1) My Hairdresser is a lovely woman with the soothing touch of a mother. She would probably never behave this way.