You know how when it gets late at night, you can’t sleep because it’s too hot, you’ve watched everything available on your DVR and there’s nothing left to do besides cut your own hair?
Yeah, I know.
I’ve been contemplating chopping off my hair for awhile now. I pin pins, I save photos, I rip out pages from magazines, blah, blah, blah, but when it comes down to it and I’m sitting in the chair, I chicken out. I had a horrible experience with short hair in high school.
I had short hair.
And that was the horrible experience.
It was cut waaaaaaaaaay above my chin (not a good length when you have an already round face to begin with and you’re fond of Olive Garden) and in a face framing bob. And to make matters worse, I consciously made this decision the day before I graduated from high school.
*Note to all Soon-To-Be Graduates: don’t make life altering choices the day before you graduate. Sure, pick a college, move to Paris, decide to have a baby with your on-again, 0ff-again boyfriend, but DO NOT make any decisions about your hair. Just…don’t.*
So, it’s late. I’m bored. I gather all my hair into a loose, uneven ponytail, grab my office scissors (I did think about it long enough to make sure I didn’t use the scissors that I had just used to cut up chicken) and just cut straight across my ponytail. But then Huz comes in and says he’s bummed that he missed it and would like to get it on film, so I would I mind taking a bit more off? Ehhh…what’s a little more?
In total, I cut about 4 inches off. And I then I emailed my hair stylist to immediately book an appointment. (After I told her what I did, she said something to the effect of, “I’m in New York, but please put a bag over your head until I can fix you.”) I’ve also been asked not to mention her name until my hair is completely fixed.
Huz has also gone around the house and since hidden all scissors and kitchen shears.
I should probably just take up knitting.