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Thursday, February 3, 2011

I am Traumatized

I got a haircut yesterday.  A deep and disturbing haircut.  I am now traumatized. 

Those of you who knew me in my childhood will have fond memories of the many pixi and bowl cuts that my Mother was fond of giving me.  By virtue of her having a couple of brothers who were hair stylists, the talent to cut her own children's hair was inherent.  Until  I reached the age of about 10 or so, this was common practise in our kitchen at least once every couple of months.  I would like to say I remember those days with fondness.  I would LIKE to say that but I cannot. 

You should know, my Mother was not the only one to inflict traumatization upon my young head.  I was either 10 or 11 when I was taken to my Uncle's hair salon for a new cut.  I told him very clearly " I want to look like a girl."  He promised me that when he was done, I would look like a pretty little girl.  At the end of the cut, he spun me around in the chair and told me how pretty I was.  (You should know, I had no other cousins who were girls at this point so his point of reference might be called into question).  I was happy.  Then in happened.  His first client in after my cut took a look at me and said " Oh D (name protected), is this your nephew?"  It cost him an ice cream cone and a toy to shut me up.  However, you may notice, neither really worked as 40 years later I am still traumatized.

I told you the above in order to set in context the understand that I hold dear with respect to my hair.  Back to yesterday's haircut.  I might actually have to take some blame here.  I might have been a little wishy washy without giving clear direction when I said "I need some shape, with a trim.  You can take an inch or so off at the back as I still need to be able to put it in a ponytail."  After a night to sleep on it, I understand that this could have been taken as "please cut it all off so that I may relive my childhood pixi cuts."

People were kind today.  They either said nothing at all or a I got a polite smile coupled with "you look cute - and besides, its only hair.  It will grow back."

I am going to start keeping a bottle of booze in my bottom desk drawer with a bendy straw for sipping. 

On the upside, I feel that now with this haircut coupled with my newly discovered mustache - many of my dating issues will be moot.   Since I will conceivably be confused for a male, chances are pretty good I will be off the market for a while - at least until this grows out.

As soon as I get out hair-therapy, I will catch you up on things

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