Chopping
February 21, 2005
My hair? MY HAIR? Yeah. Let me tell you about. my. hair.
It was more of a counseling session than a haircut. Have you ever had hair therapy?
WE WERE THERE FOR THREE HOURS. TALKING. ABOUT MY HAIR.
Kris, my stylist, sat on the sofa knitting a tube scarf while I explained my frustrations, and while I vented about my hair, and EVEN WHILE I CRIED because of my confusion over not knowing what to do with it. Do you cry about your hair? Is it just me?
I listened while Kris told me how great my hair was, and how he wished it was his own, and about his two dreams and waking up in a cold sweat, which eventually told him when he should cut all his hair off. I just kinda stared at him after that, because: what?
Instead of making a rash decision to chop it all off at once, I tried to sit, and be calm, and to analyze my situation, to listen to my voice of reason (in the form of my stylist).
Kris gave me tons of new styling tips, again. And he discussed with me the importance of mane-taming my hair (get it? maintaining? mane-taming? HA!) and how to style it in a way that causes minimal damage to my hair. He taught me how to use certain products, and has given me "order" for my morning routine.
My tresses are now just three inches past my shoulders. Kris chopped off probably 4-5 inches. I feel healthier, and more stylish, and I love my hair. For now. (Ummm, two months from now, when I start complaining about it again, will you remind me to go get a haircut? I tend to forget about this thing called "maintenance.")
