Shave and a Haircut

Did I tell you I’m getting a haircut? Oh. Well. I’m getting a haircut.

I don’t know why I always get so nervous! It is never as bad as I think it is going to be. And it grows relatively fast.

Let me start over. My hair has always been a source of vanity. I generally keep it long. This is more out of time constraints (being unable to schedule appointments) and the unwillingness to justify paying $30+ to have my hair basically look the same. I don’t blow dry it, I don’t color it, I don’t curl it, I don’t straighten it. It just is. And because I don’t do anything to damage it, I tend to have pretty healthy, good lookin if not boring hair.

Once every few years, I get tired of it. Tired of brushing it, tired of washing it, tired of having it in my face, tired of the headache a ponytail causes, tired of it blowing everywhere, tired of the static electricity, tired of getting it caught in everything, tired of…well you get the point. So I make an appointment to chop it all off and I donate it.

I feel slightly guilty about even mentioning that I donate it. Yes, it goes to a child who will have a far different life just because of the way people will treat him/her just because they get to blend in with everyone else. But really, I get to offload a weight from my scalp that causes more headaches than theatre, I usually get a discount on the haircut, and I spend less overall on shampoo and conditioner. I’m stingy.

And then I get nervous. What if this is the time I cut my hair short and it looks stupid? I’m going to Aveda, where the people cutting my hair are students. So far, they have always done a fantastic job for me. But what if this time I get the girl who just broke up with her boyfriend? Or the guy that barely passed his test to cut hair with my head shape? Or the super experimental kid with the faux-hawk? Or worse, the super boring one? And what if it is too hard to fix and I look stupid for my honeymoon.

I booked the appointment a month ago. I have until Saturday to change my mind. Saturday February 4th, the day I lost my mind.


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