Hair: The Thing I Usually Don't Have the Time to Bitch About

There was a time in my life when I was on my hair and actually kept up with it.  I was in love with experimenting with colors and cuts and styles and all that bullshit.  This diligence carried on through roughly my sixth month of pregnancy with Child 1.0.  I had always bounced around from stylist to stylist, experimenting with their skills and just being a bit reckless in general (with my hair, duh).  At six months pregnant, I strolled into what I refer to as a WAY OVERPRICED salon with a trendy picture and told the lady to get to work.  I recall feeling as if I sat in that chair for ten years, unpatiently waiting for this middle-aged woman to reveal the hotness that awaited.  When it was time for the big reveal, you could tell she was mortified.  I was equally mortified.  And pregnant.  And mortified---wait, did I say mortified already?  Not only was my hair ridiculously thin and dead; strawlike and lifeless; but it was ugly and fucking ugly.  I was speechless.  She was speechless.  She had nothing nice to even try and say.  Finally I got the words out and said, "What about the picture---I brought you a PICTURE!'" She looked ashamed because I think she knew damn well that she couldn't replicate what was in that picture.  She then went on to try and sell me a deep, deep, deep conditioner; because obviously.  I laughed in her face and refrained from crying.  This rude, rude bitch then said, "It's because your pregnant."  Now I used that excuse many times, mostly to explain why the fridge was empty or why I hadn't gotten off my ass for four days.  I'm not saying she was wrong, because I KNOW that hormones change your hair and that things go all apeshit when you are carrying a parasite.  But I also KNOW that it wasn't just hormones to blame for this shitshow.  I recall being irate that I had to even pay this bitch, and I recall further that I didn't quite tip up to par.  In all fairness, I have gotten bad results in other salons, people's basements, etc., but in 100% of those situations, the stylists try and offer SOME kind of solution.  Maybe you come back another time and they try and fix it, or maybe they even try to fix it right-then-and-there.  I imagine this is so you feel comfortable with them and establish a relationship and trust, therefore returning in the future.  I believe I nursed the shit out of my hair and then box-dyed it right before I had Child 1.0.  Still being who I was, shortly after I had Adam, I went back to my experimental ways.  Of course, I found myself in the same shitty situation when Adam was about eight months old.  I went to yet another fancy schmancy salon and paid a shitton of money for a perm.  This time, I brought in MULTIPLE photos of what I wanted.  I said I wanted a body wave perm; not a poodle perm.  I have thick ass hair and thought I made myself pretty freakin' clear.  The girl (this time SHE was the one super duper pregnant) acted all on-board and although she was a total freaking bitch, I thought she wouldn't screw me over because she was young and had cute hair.  WRONG!  WRONG!  WRONG!  She did the big reveal and BAM! I had been poodle-fied.  Again, I let my disappointment show.  I referred back to the photos I had brought and then the bitch was all like, "Those pictures aren't of a perm..." and "I used the biggest rollers we had..."  Again, I was just blown away by the fact yet ANOTHER "stylist" knew damn well it wasn't going to be what I wanted, yet scammed me.  I paid my $100+ and took my hair home; dead, stringy, disgusting.  That perm took over two years to fully grow out.  It was awful.  Following that catastrophe, I vowed I'd never return to one of the fancy schmancy places.  I got some of my favorite styles ever from girls who worked out of their houses or beauty schools.  After my wedding, I decided I wanted to chop all of my hair off.  After much debate, I found myself at the local beauty school.  Not only was the cut like $8, it turn out INCREDIBLE.  Unfortunately, the upkeep of that haircut is what screwed me.  I attempted to bounce around to different places to get the cut maintained, and EACH and EVERY time it looked like shit.  I fell into a terrible funk and then decided NOT to cut my hair---just get it colored.  I had some great color work done (again, by people working out of their house) but the cut itself was nasty and I didn't have enough faith to even try and do anything with it

That brings me to present day.  I have a choppy ass hair "style" that shows traces of the fact that a year ago I had a reverse bob.  I ran out of time to go and get awesome hair color done, so my latest and greatest color is a box of Colorsilk that cost me $4.  My hair sucks.  Truthfully, I don't care too much because 90% of the time I just throw it in a ponytail and call it a day, but a small part of me longs for a hairstyle that actually consists of a style.  I see great pictures of short hair and say, "Shit, I want to cut off all my hair again!" Reality snaps back into focus and I remember that I was growing my hair out for a reason (see: the maintenance sucks).  I guess the only thing that leaves me with is fooling around with hair color, BUT as you would know it, I'm knocked up again and am TERRIFIED of what my hormones will result in.  I keep saying I am going to do something with my hair, but I always talk myself out of it because hairstyles are SOOO different from stylist to stylist.  One term means something completely different to someone else and there really is no way to 100% guarantee that what you have in your mind (or even on a printed picture for that matter) will be equally interpreted by the person with the scissors (or dye). 

My hair sucks.  Blah.  I am shaving my head.