The Problem With Hairdressing...

Whoa, this picture is really accurate. That's my exact haircut,
and the hairdresser had short blond hair. 0_0

Okay, so I know this post doesn't exactly belong on a food blog, but I just had to say something. 

Now, I am the sort of person who has had really messed up childhood experiences of going to the hairdresser's, from kicking up a tantrum to crying after seeing my awful reflection in the mirror, YES, I've been there. Loads of times. I wonder if i'm the only one who thinks like that? 

Well, ANYWAY, after prolonging my hair cutting session for a year now, I'd decided to chop it all off. It's like letting your finger nails grow an inch because you're just too lazy, and deciding one day, "You know what? chop it, chop it all right off!" (Which i should start getting to, my fingernails are reaching the length of 'indecent') 

   I mean, I'm so tired of having to wake up slightly earlier for school so that I can tie my hair up neatly, and I can't lie down comfortably with a pony tail sticking out of my head, plus, your hair gets all shriveled up in all the wrong places after a sweaty day, AND, I have an annoying junior who likes to pull ponytails (a boy. A BOY.) I found that it was about time I started to get back to my usual ol' tomboy cut. 

  Maybe, the reason why I wanted long-ish hair in the first place was because of the remarks people made about me being kinda like a guy all the time, or maybe it was just darn laziness to get a haircut, but OH WELL. What does it matter? The point is, I got a haircut today.

    It's a horrible feeling, walking to the hairdresser's. Your stomach churns with every next step you take, your heart rate accelerates with every nerve-wrecking thought. What if I come out looking like a teapot? or What if the Razor malfunctions and starts bulldozing everything off like a Lawn mower? 

   And before you know it, you hear the soft buzz of the blade behind your ear, sawing off bits of hair, bit by bit. It was so ticklish that i couldn't stop laughing. See, whenever I feel the thing anyway near me, a shiver REALLY runs down my spine and I start wobbling like the tentacles of a squid. And with one final snip of her scissors, the deed was done. 

  I have horrible eyesight, so the mirror in front of me looks so blur that I can hardly tell anything, besides my blob of a reflection. When the hairdresser told me to put on my glasses, My hands were shaking, and I really didn't know what to expect. Most often, regaining my vision was a bad thing. 

    So when I finally put on my Specs and saw myself, I was surprisingly calm. Maybe I did grow up after all these years. I mean, If I were still my 10 year old self, I would have screamed (when I get home of course) out loud from the shock. Hair, is JUST hair. I know, but don't pretend you don't care because everyone does. Let's face it, I'm being blatantly honest here since no one knows who I am. 

   Well, I kinda like it, actually. Well, yes it does stick out in some places, and I do look a little like a helmet. But whatever.

   The Problem With Hairdressing...

 ... Is that you really never know what to expect.