The New Me

The long-haired lout is no more.

I’ve been humming and hahing about getting my hair cut short for a while now. Mainly, the knots in my hair were driving me nuts, the length was weighing my hair down and thinning it out (or making it look thinner) and it would be damned hot in Chicago with long hair.

Last year, I got my hair cut short, but I seem to gravitate back to long hair again. I don’t know if it’s the hairdresser talking me into it or what, but somehow, my hair ends up being longer again.

Until last night. Denise (who works for us) is a qualified hairdresser and she’s been wanting to get her hands on my hair for a while, from all accounts. Now, to be honest, I like the status quo. I like having the same hairdresser, the same bank, the same everything… I’m not a huge one for change in some areas of my life. Security would be the word I would use. I’m a great fan of security.

Anyway, my mind raced through the last disaster of a haircut I had when going back to the States. For some reason, with my hair long, a group of people decided my hair needed some curl so a loose perm would help that. I wasn’t a big fan of that idea. I thought, if I need curl, I can add product or take a little more time stylng it or something to make it curl. But I was a bit too weak and went along with it. Stupid me.

After hours on a cold winter’s night in the hairdressers, with the appointment running way over time as I needed to take the chihuahuas to the vet, my hair was absolutely hideous. It was overprocessed. It was frizzy. I looked like Tina Turner on a really bad hair day. And, to my embarrassment and horror, I had to take the chihuahuas to the vet where, in a small waiting room, we sat waiting for way too long with everyone staring at my hair.

I wasn’t a happy camper, for obvious reasons.

So with the frank distrust of a new hairdresser — the one who permed my hair denies she did anything wrong, as does her boss, even though both Noel and Don (both hairdressers as well as beauty therapists) agreed it was overprocessed — I reluctantly let Denise style my hair. Well, as I work with her, I trust her, so… I guess that made things slightly easier.

My long locks are gone. Short hair’s here again. It’s easier to manage (took me 15 minutes less to prepare this morning for work!) and looks good. And, as Jacqui, James, Denise, Noel and everyone else has said… it makes me look younger. (Noel says like a boy and not to let Adam near me but hey, that’s another story entirely LOL.)

I have to admit: I feel refreshed. And thank God the new me will be all-that-much cooler and more comfortable in the US!

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