Hair

I would consider myself very low maintenance when it comes to hair.  Since moving to Texas, nine times out of ten I don't even take a dryer to it - I just slick it back into a bun.  I'm not sure it's the most becoming 'do in the world, but hair drying to me ranks up there with cleaning... I find it almost unbearable.

I stopped by a random hair place in a strip mall last week for a trim (see first paragraph), since it had been months and months since my last cut.  I didn't want ANY funny business - no layers, nothing - just a trim.  Each time I'm in the haircut hot seat I feel like I'm bullied into a cut I don't want, similar to going to My Nails in Boston for a brow wax (you're on the table with a hot wax stick waving an inch above your face while they keep saying, "Uppah Lih?  Uppah Lih?" until you have to physically restrain them from waxing your upper lip). 

But, I digress.

Once again, even though in my head I said that I would be firm about TRIM ONLY, I had no choice but to go ahead with Margot's plan.  "I can under-cut it so it curls under on it's own!"  Go for it, Margot.  "How about a few layers to frame your face?"  That sounds great, Margot.  Once again I was defeated. 

I used to be a much bigger risk-taker with my hair.  When I first lived in Boston I decided that I wanted the cut that Gwyneth Paltrow had in my favorite movie at the time, Sliding Doors.  Picture in hand, I had the owner of Leeba Salon on Comm Ave go to town.  I thought it looked pretty good when I left the salon, but the next morning when I tried to do it on my own, it was HEINOUS.  I couldn't even put it behind my ear, and it was really puffy around my face and poodle-like in the back.  I looked like a man.  From all angles. 

The next day, I marched back into the salon sporting my heinous cut and holding the picture, and made a teeny tiny scene.  Saleeba was with a client, but I couldn't wait. 

Me, standing in the front of the salon, looking ridiculous in every way and for all to see:  "THIS [angrily pointing to my hair], is NOT THIS!!!!" [holding up the Gwynny pic]

Saleeba excused himself from his client and took me aside.  I was expecting an apology, but got nothing of the sort.  He said something along the lines of,  "I can cut your hair any way you like, but you will never look like Gwyneth Paltrow."

Ouch!  I got schooled! 

I don't think I have to tell you that I never went back to Leeba Salon, and I spent the next year plotting revenge against Saleeba while growing out my hair. 


I don't think it's a coincidence that my mother thought Catherine and I were dating during this time.