Every time I cut my hair I remember how Ephraim told Cailin that she was only a half a woman when she chopped her hair off.
Maybe I am only half a woman, but I tell you, my neck is feeling like a whole woman.
My hair was getting ridiculous, as when I'd put it up in a pony tail my entire forehead was being pulled back in a poor man's face lift. While I admit that I've been getting saggy around the chin(s) region, I'd rather see that my hairline was not receding from the strain.
So I chopped it off. I told the woman 6 inches, and she cut off about 10. I know, why am I complaining? I mean, how many people even have 10 inches to cut off? And it still falls a few inches below my shoulders. The funniest part was how as she was cutting, it was looking more and more like her own hair cut. I guess imitation really is flattery.
So now I have bangs (actually, I cut those myself, another story) and this crazy layered hair cut. Jake says to me, in all seriousness, "Mariko, I really don't like your hair. You look like someone from the 80's." Yeah. It's true. Other people have been pretty nice about it, but even I think it looks pretty bad.
I cut my own bangs off in a fit (I was already in a bad mood). I tried to cut them long (like, past my eyes), but then they did this bouncy thing when they dried and fell well above my eyebrows. Hmmmm. It's funny because I think that's the exact look I was going for when I was thirteen and my bangs just stayed hopelessly listless. I immediately despaired and acted pissy for the rest of the day, but refused to admit it was because I'd given myself such a bad trim.
After I got over it, I decided that I have to have that sweeping to the side bangs look, but it hasn't worked yet. Probably because I refuse to do anything other than wash and brush (I don't even use conditioner any more). I kind of assumed that my hair would do exactly what I wanted it to do simply because I had a hairstyle in mind. I'll let you know when my positive thinking (is this what they teach in that book, "The Secret"?) results in that cute hair that I'm imagining.
When I went in for the rest of the hair cut, the hairdresser looked very sideways at my bangs. "So what do you want to do about those?" she asks. "Um, nothing." I say, scared that she wants to cut them even shorter. She did respect that part of my request, at least.
But really, I guess it's kind of nostalgic for me to have a bad hair cut. I mean, I spent most of my elementary and middle school years in a home perm with bangs. Yeah. I think my mom also was practicing some of that positive mental projection when we spent a couple of hours the night before school picture day (several years in a row, mind you) setting my hair in curlers, squeezing that nasty smelling solution, and rinsing in the kitchen sink. The next morning she would faithfully "pick" my hair and send me off to school. There is not one person who could look back at those pictures and think that home perms were a good idea.