Yeah, I'm sure there are worse things, but for the sake of this blog post, let's just say that there aren't.
You can kind of tell it's happening as it's happening, like watching a building fall over in slow motion, but there's nothing you can do about it. I mean, once it's started, it's done.
I have been a recipient of some really bad haircuts. I have curly hair, which people think covers a multitude of sins, which just shows how misunderstood we curly haired people are.
1. There was the semi-mullet in high school. I think I went to my mom's hairdresser, and it was the closest I've ever come to crying over a haircut. I wore a headband for months.
2. Then there was the triangle head episode. I have to take some responsibility for this. I said I wanted a short, blunt cut. But any fool will tell you that people with curly hair should not have short, blunt cuts. Because it makes them look absurd. My hair took on the previously mentioned triangle shape, and I wore it in two little ponytails under my visor for the rest of the summer.
3. There was the poorly reasoned $12 haircut in Rexburg. Again, admittedly, I have to take some credit for this fiasco. Having a chair and a mirror in the back room of Rags and Tans (real name) are not really the credentials I should have been looking for. I left with wet hair and didn't truly understand the atrocity committed until later that night. Basically, I had a layer of hair cut at about ear height, and then the next layer fell below my shoulders. Apparently, she'd never heard of "long, round layers".
4. The repair haircut I got after the one above (we left the next morning for California, so there was no time to have old Rags and Tans fix it). I went to a Supercuts, because I figured it couldn't get any worse. I was only half right. There wasn't much to be done, so she just cut it really, really short. As short as I've ever had it - above chin length. Weirdly, I don't remember this time in my life at all. I think I might have some post traumatic shock symptoms.
5. Then there's today, with Lizzy, the almost-Aveda graduate. I put my faith in her. But why? Because she's about to graduate? Because she has cherry red and black hair? Because she wore diamond-like gauges in her ears? I mean, really, what was my foundation? Too short. Too, too short. Actually, now that I think about it, even a little triangle-like.
I've wasted the good will of all those prenatal vitamins, and now I just have to wait for it to grow out.
Ugh. And buy a headband.