Having a bad hair day . . .

Good evening dear friends. It has been a rough day.

I hate my hair. I hate getting hair cuts. I have very fine hair but it is really thick and unruly. It never fails but every second or third hair cut I get is an absolute nightmare. I'm not naming names because the doer of the deed this time is a lovely lady who did a great job the last time she got her shears out. I don't know if we miscommunicated or if something went horribly wrong and this was the best it could be fixed . . . but my hair cut is BAD.

I'm tired of short hair so I've been trying to grow my hair out from the usual short cut for quite a while. I asked to have my hair trimmed to even it out and just above my shoulders. The result is long bits of hair at the front and large hunks of hair hacked out of the back, shorter than the front. And neither the front or back is anywhere near my shoulders.

In my defense, I am blind as a bat without my glasses and hoop earrings. And Nanna was behind me, head under a dryer, sans glasses, and glaring at me with one eye shut. Yeah, she is blind as a bat too. By the time I realized what had happened it was too late.

I cannot look in a mirror because it makes me cry every time. This is weird behaviour for me because I am the furthest thing from a vain person. I think life should be lived in comfy clothes and comb & go hairstyles. My idea of makeup is every once in a while I use mascara and if it is a big occasion I might put on some lipstick.

My lovely friends are telling me it isn't too bad but I can see the pity in their eyes. I do appreciate them trying to make me feel better though. My usual hairdresser says there isn't much she can do until it grows out a bit . . . sigh. I'm hopeful my daughter-in-law-to-be can come up with a good idea of what to do with this mop because the family reunion (and the required tons of photos) is happening on Sunday.

Wish me luck!

Good night dear friends.

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