Monday, December 27, 2010

What's done is...

Emma WatsonImage by ursulakm via Flickr

So, it has happened. I, lady-of-the-unchanging-locks, am a changed woman. Indeed, I chopped off the unchanging locks. And now, behold! Er. Or rather, I am dashed proud of myself. For not only snipping off a good five inches of ennui, but also tackling the Hairdresser-Hardsell with a light, frothy laugh.
Let me elaborate on the Hairdresser Hardsell: a phenomenon well-known to anyone who goes into a hairdresser to get their hair done. Ergo, nearly everyone on the planet. However, note that the Hardsell comes on that much harder when it is one of those vast, chic salons populated by vaguely-foreign and crashingly trendy hairdressers.
"Why don't you go in for a fullllll color?" she whispered enticingly, snipping dangerously. "Because I already have a fullllll natural color that most people would give their eye-teeth for!" I replied. (In my head, that is, since I have yet to overcome my innate fear of hairdressers, having been scarred since adolescence by an Incident.) In real-time I just laughed my new frothy laugh, getting frothier as each inch of my hair fell to the glittering floor.
Then she went for the next tactic. "A graduated bob" she purred. "Just get your hair straightened, and.."
"But didn't you just a minute ago say I have great curls?" Again, in my head. Again, the frothy laugh.
And, I emerged, with exactly the cut I wanted.
Of course, this morning I reeled in horror at my image in the mirror. "What HAVE I done?" However, the universe in its infinite wisdom has assured me that it is but hair. It shall grow back. And as the day progressed, my all-encompassing, life-gutting regret ebbed like the proverbial tide.
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