No Sex Please – Nursing (Another) Bad Haircut!

What’s with the world of hair and those people who are supposed to know how to use a pair of scissors. Four months ago, I reluctantly went to have my hair trimmed as I was starting to look like a shaggy and unkempt dog.  I came out of there not with the haircut I had envisioned.  What is it about layers and blending in that stylists don’t understand??  Too many bad haircuts over the years have made me quite skittish.  The “bowl” cut a couple of years ago was my crowning glory, so to speak.  As the stylist was cutting, I said that it didn’t look like it was a layered cut which I had asked for. She told me not to worry because she wasn’t finished yet.  She kept cutting trying to give me those elusive layers that I wanted.  When I looked at the finished product, I cried.  There was no balance nor layers to be seen.  Another hairdresser had to step in to try and fix the damage.  She did the best with what she had to work with which wasn’t much.  I ran out of there fast.  It took a couple of months before it grew and looked somewhat ok.  Then it grew for another 2 months and it was time to shop around for another hair salon. Horror!

I was feeling the stress as I walked in to yet another hair salon last week and explained to them what I wanted and how the last person didn’t cut it right.  The stylist agreed.  It was a bad cut.  Please, I thought, give me a good cut. As he started cutting, he showed me how the layers should be cut to blend in with the other layers.  He talked a good talk.  He kept cutting.  Then he snipped my bangs, way too short.  My heart sank.  I knew I was in for another bad cut.  I shed a few silent tears thinking, here we go again.  Well, he finished it, styled it and sent me on my way.  Styled, it didn’t look too bad; however, after I washed it at home and tried to style it myself, my bangs wouldn’t stay down because they were too short.  I looked like Alfalfa, from Spanky and our Gang with a lock of front hair sticking right up.  I brushed it down and it came right back up.  I moussed it down and it came right back up.  I blow-dried it down and it came right back up.  It was possessed with a mind of its own.  My daughter thought it was the funniest thing and took a picture and sent it to her friend, who, helpfully, suggested Crazy Glue.  Thank you!

No Sex Please – My Hair is Standing at Attention.

 

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