the bad haircut, the finale.

whew.  nothing like prolonging the pain and misery, hey?  well, hopefully there aren't any major interruptions this time around so I can get this thing over with and you can all go on your merry way, thankful that all this stuff happens to me and not you.

*

because it's hard to get a detailed look at your hair while you're sitting in the salon chair, the first thing I did after returning home was to race up to the safety of my bathroom so I could scope out my tresses a little more closely, without anyone watching me.  (you do that, don't you?)

as I'm holding up my little hand mirror, studying the fix-job on the back of my head, I'm thinking well, it's a bit short for my liking, but at least it doesn't look like a fat, poofy square anymore.  then I turned my head to check out the side view and oh my word.  I almost screamed out loud.  apparently, the stylist had been so focused on fixing the back of my head, that she forgot to blend in the hair on the sides (to match up with the shorter stuff in the back).  basically, it looked like I had EEYORE ears, not even kidding.

and I for sure didn't want any out-of-town guests to point me out at Winter Services and ask, "who's that lady over there that looks like EEYORE?"

I tried fiddling with my hair for a while (straightening, adding product, etc) to see if I could revive it somehow, but the EEYORE ears simply weren't going away.  not knowing what else to do, I decide to go back to Aveda.  by now, Gary and the kids pretty much think I've lost my mind.  "you were just there, and now you're going back AGAIN? they ask.  "it's not your hair," I tell them.  "so clamp it."

are you guys getting sick of this story?  because I am.

so, for the second time that day I shuffle into Aveda.  the stylist sees me and she raises her eyebrows like, "hey!  you're back!"  and I'm like, "yeah!  I can't get enough of this place!"  and then I go on to ask her if she could blend in the sides a bit more so it doesn't look like I have two different cuts going on at once.  "oh sure, no problem!" she tells me.  and so she does a little more texturizing and a little more thinning and finally announces, "there!  that should do the trick!"

except now the left side of my head looked like Rowan had taken the shears to it.

as I stared at my wrecked hair in the mirror, I couldn't help but envision myself huddling in the corner at Winter Services with a shower cap on my head, wondering if anyone would notice.

anyway, the next morning I ended up calling the gal I usually see and tearfully explained to her my latest hair woes.  taking pity on me, she so kindly fit me into the schedule and did the best she could to resurrect what was left of my hair.

so here's the new look.  not sure that I totally like it, but it will have to do for now. (pardon the bad pictures as I was feeling a bit spatially challenged trying to hold my phone, look in the mirror, and take a picture all at the same time.  and has my hair really gotten that dark?!)

fortunately, I was only pointed out at Winter Services as "the lady who writes that one blog."  you know, the one with the wild kid.  what's his name?  oh yeah, Rowan :P

-jessica

PS. surely, I can't be the only one with a bad hair tale.  that said, it'd be fun to hear yours. (obviously you don't have to go into as much detail as I did, heh.)