For weeks now I've had hair on the brain. Every morning when I fight with my unruly hair it reminds me it's time for a cut. Nothing drastic, just a reshaping really, getting all the old, dead ends taken off and the layers redone. My days of drastic hair changes are over. Afterall, who'd want to see a 40 year old woman with a mohawk? Hehe! I was thinking about coloring it again, but I'm pretty sure that'd be a big waste of money at this time of the year when being out in the sun naturally lightens my hair.
I know that because I've been thinking about making a hair appointment I'm more aware of conversations having to do with hair, but this past week's been ridiculous.
It started off with a conversation at work with one of the girls telling us about a coworker who commented on her haircut by saying "Oh, I see we've got a new 'guy' on the team!" Uh, yeah. WTF? She cut her hair really short. And, yes, she's a lesbian and doesn't get all foofy and shit, but c'mon. Why does our hair style make people want to say nasty things to us? Then this other coworker was telling us about the cafe manager stopping her in the hallway to tell her "Your order is taken care of and will be delivered at xx:xx time." She just looked at her and responded, "Huh? I'm not S. I'm K. S is the blonde." (which is funny because S is by no means blonde, but in comparison to K she's a little bit lighter). That of course prompted S to tell us she's really sick of her hair (the color, the length) and needs to do something different. Then A starts in with "I really need to get my hair cut! It's such a PITA, but my hubby doesn't like short hair." Okay, that one got me going. Since when do men get a freakin' say in how we keep our hair?? It's our hair, dammit, and until they start washing, styling and taking care of it for us they've got no damn say in what we do with it.
Then at the BBQ on the 4th the topic of hair came up again. The two teenaged neighbor boys (not brothers, just friends) are in some funky phase of growing their hair long. The hanging in your eyes, greasy, scraggly sort of long. One comes walking past the adults wearing a baseball cap. Apparently the parents finally said 'enough' and made him chop it off. LOL The other, well as of Thursday he was sporting a brand spanking new summer cut. You can actually see ears and eyes on him now.
Even my kiddo who fights me every time I make an appointment for him was looking at a picture taken at school last year when I'd gotten really lazy and hadn't had his hair cut in a couple months. Looks like he's got a mop on his head, literally. He say, "Mom, I hate that picture of me!" When I asked why he tells me his hair is too long. So I reminded him about the fit he pitches every time we go to get his hair cut and he says, "Yeah, I know. I just don't like going, but I like it when it's done." Kids!
And finally, of course, where is Stace today? Taking Michael to get his hair cut. Okay, let's all say it together now. Shocker! Uh, yeah.
So, I still haven't made a hair appointment. And I'm still not really sure what I'm gonna have done if I ever get off my ass to make one. But I'm sure until I do, the topic of hair will be floating into my life over and over again, cuz that's just the way it works for me. Sheesh!