haird to believe

i'll admit to being a hair snob. i willingly pay ridiculous amounts to have someone shampoo, condition, cut and blow dry my hair. maybe it comes from a bad experience in 4th grade when my mom accidentally chopped my bangs and i had to live with 1" bangs until they grew, but I think the most reasonable explanation for my desire to spend so much on a hairdo is probably best summed up this way: a hair style is something you wear every day. if you wore the same shirt or dress or pants every single day, you'd choose something that made a good impression, right? and even though the initial sticker price might be a little shocking, the cost-per-day would be relatively low. correct? so the same goes for a hair style. it may seem ridiculous, especially if you are like me and wear your hair pulled back in some way 75% of the time (i attribute that problem to my ridiculously low forehead), but when you look at it on a cost-per-day basis, it really isn't that expensive at all. that may or not make sense to you, but it has always made me feel better when i check out at the salon register.

that being said, last week, i made a completely uncharacteristic move and went to a little, hole-in-the-wall hair salon that is very close to our house. i'm not sure what came over me. i totally ignored the wonderful advice and obviously wonderful haircut of a close friend who found a great salon in the area and thought, hmm, i think i should check out this local hair place. so last week, i shelled out a whole $20 for a shampoo, condition, cut and blow dry, and i think i'm still kind of reeling from the shock of it all. what was i thinking? at least i have long hair and you can't really mess that up too bad.

when the stylist started making the first cuts before determining where my hair is parted, i just told myself that she would fix it before making the important cuts. but when she started cutting into a chunk of hair without actually making sure the hair was all straightened and evenly held between her fingers, i got nervous. it was at that point that i decided to just not even worry about it. sometimes people are more important than the hair snob that lurks inside. maybe i was supposed to sit in this stylists chair and talk with her that day. maybe God helped me momentarily forget my desire to have a good hair cut so i would turn the wheel into the little parking lot and go visit this lady. who knows? so rather than get uptight, i just started talking to her. i'm not even sure if anything worthwhile was said, but she sure had fun talking back to me, and by they time she had finished blow drying my hair with her fingers and no brush, i was satisfied and had convinced myself that going in there for a haircut was exactly what i was supposed to have done that day.

however, by the time my ends need another trim i will take mrs. d's advice and go to her salon.