There is nothing like a great haircut! Makes you feel a million bucks, all swish and confident and sexy and young and lookitme-I'm-so-fab!!
And what I got at the hairdresser yesterday? Was nothing like a great haircut. Or even a good haircut. In fact, dare I say, it wasn't even a haircut. Butcher job perhaps. A candid camera lark, perhaps?
Firstly, they had a slip of a girl doing the washing, a trainee. So no head massage. Just coldHOTcoldHOtcold water and a quick lather and a squirt of water in my eye. The same trainee combed my long curly (read: frizzy) hair afterwards, after she'd rubbed the towel all over and knotted it to hell. Combed with one hand. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Never mind, here comes the professional to take over so now I shall relax. Just take some of the length off please and shape the front if you will.
It did look good when she cut it, I can't deny that. Sadly as it dried it sproinged up up up until I had an upside down pyramid and - oh no!! - a FRINGE. A thick hefty squared lump of hair on my face. I had.. [sob].. OLD LADY HAIR!
And the really stupid bit? I woke up today and SOMEONE HAD STOLEN MY HAIR!!!! Oh yeah, it was cut. I went to the town and caught sight of myself in a shop window and SOMEONE HAD STOLEN MY HAIR!!!! Oh yeah, d'uh. Saw my Mother-in-Law and she said ooh you've had your hair cut and I automatically put my hand up to my hair and SOMEONE HAD STOLEN MY HAIR!!! Oh FGS. I need to get a grip. If for nothing else but to hold my fringe back (my FRINGE!! Where the heck is my HAIR??).
It'll grow. It'll grow. Let it grow.