Snip, Snip, CHOP!

You know that feeling you get when you're waiting in a doctor's office? How the minutes feel like hours and the panic slowly increases? And how, for some odd reason, the fluttering butterflies in your stomach feel the need to turn into hopping frogs? Well, I get this feeling. Only I get this feeling while I'm waiting for my turn in hair salons.

I love my thick, unruly, sometimes wavy, sometimes curly, all the time frizzy hair. It may have taken me years to figure out how to manage it but I can now...and I like it. When a hairdresser, who has never even met my hair before, calls me over to sit in "the" chair, I panic. What if she cuts it too short? What if she doesn't follow the picture I give her? What if she has her own idea of what to do with my hair?

Yes, I worry way too much but I am the one that will have to live with the end result. Today, I heard the hairdresser say, "It's just hair. It will grow back eventually." Holy moly, I don't like the way she thinks. I let her cut my hair anyway. I showed her a picture of how I wanted it done and she agreed that the style would suit me well.

I sat there watching the hair fall down in front of my face. I watched as it fell unto the "cape" and slid down to the floor. Little pieces in little chunks. Then...BAM! A good four inch piece just fell from the front of my head. Ohhhh nooo. I'm sure my eyes were huge at this point because the lady says, "It's okay!! I just needed to cut more for your bangs. It's okay." Talk about heart attack. I didn't like that feeling one bit.

She finally finished cutting my hair and she asked if I wanted it straightened. Of course I want it straightened. I don't want to go outside looking like an angry bird. It took a while but, once it was all straightened, I got to spin around with a mirror and look at it. It's so short! Or at least it's a lot shorter than I'm used to, but I love it! The lady also thinned it out so it's more manageable. I guess I should just trust her next time and save myself from the panic.