I haven't had anything to write on here in forever so you're about to just get a hands-on account of how vain I am. Deal, bitches.
I've been toying with the idea of chopping my hair off for at least a month now. It was getting too long and wasn't really doing much of anything. When I mentioned it to Jenna she said "NOT TOO SHORT!" Mike said the exact same thing, followed by "DEALBREAKER!" when I told him I was buzzing it like Demi in G.I. Jane. These words were echoing in my head when I first met
the bitch who we can call Mindy from here on out. I told her very explicitly that I wanted it to be cleaned up, and that I wanted it at a medium length well below the chin.
"Above the shoulder, though?" Mindy asked.
"Eh, maybe so the longest layers touch the shoulder," I responded.
Mindy wordlessly led me to the sink and wordlessly washed and conditioned my head. She did not speak to me on the way back to the chair, or as she began to take out her tools. She mumbled something about damaged hair as she began hacking away at my hair. About eight snips in, I realized that this was going in a direction I was not comfortable with. My "shoulder length" cut was quick becoming a flapper bob and I wanted to take Mindy's shears and cut the bitch. When it was over, Mindy had spoken four sentences and I was holding back tears. I belong in an ad for the PTA.
What do you do when you suddenly look like you might drive a Subaru hatchback with two kids in back? You go shopping. I headed to the mall and decided in advance that I deserved whatever I wanted today. You know that saying, "don't go grocery shopping on an empty stomach?" Its cousin, I discovered today, is "Don't go shopping when you are internally weeeping over a shitty haircut." Not as catchy, I know.
Every time a curious salesperson asked me if I was looking for anything particular, I wanted to scream
Something slutty! Where are your assless chaps located? Doesn't anyone wear bustiers anymore? I want everyone so focused on my tats that they wouldn't notice if I was rocking a Jeri curl mullet. After heading to the fitting rooms with a sweet oversized cardigan, I decided that the Gap wasn't my best option for this project. I headed to Arden B, home of the classy hooker look I was going for.
While trying on a ridiculously summery halter top that was about three times my price range, the snooty saleswoman handed me a bunch of tops over the fitting room door. Same old story, I think you should try these on. I look at them and realize that the chica brought me all extra smalls. Normally I wouldn't fall for the
But you're so skinny! ploy by overzealous anorexics working on commission, but I ate it up today.
I left the mall already knowing that I would have to return all the stuff that woman forced on me, but still relatively pleased with myself. Katie Holmes has a rockin bod and even she hasn't found a way to distract everyone from the recycled Travolta hair piece she's been sporting as of late.
My world came to a startling halt when I walked in the door from my crisis shopping. Both my little brothers, who have absolutely no observational skills, said "Woah! Haircut!" when I walked in. I told them I didn't want to talk about it when Taylor, the sixteen year old said, "I really like it actually." Connor agreed and then my dad walked down and said the same thing. They swore up and down that my mom hadn't told them to be nice to me (which has been known to happen in the past). So there you go. I still think I look like a cross between Ramona Quimby and Amelia Earhart, but the only three people to witness it so far are thinking I look "good", "better", and "sassy", respectfully. I wish I respected any of their opinions more.
At this point, I think the leather bustier is just a plus.
.. /.=` ...........