Tuesday, January 12, 2010

“Jealousy is all the fun you think they had.”

I have a very love/hate thing going on with my hair. It started when I was a baby. I had a pretty rockin' she-mullet going on. Later, around the time I started kindergarten, my Venezuelan aunt gave me an equally awesome bowl-cut. That matched her son's cut perfectly. Thanks, Aunt Rosemarie. Thanks.

Back about 3+ years ago, I used to self-color. It was fun. Easy.

Until one day, when I self colored, and my hair turned some gross greenish-blueish-grey color. It was disturbing. I tried calling my sister, since she self-colored all the time... and she suggested throwing a new color on top of that mess.

That's when I remembered she once turned her hair pink.

I called a salon by my then-office, and described the nonsense on my head to them, and they (magically) had an opening available with their best colorist. My description apparently piqued some interest, because when I got there, and gave them my name, I got a, "Oh! With the color situation! Can I see!?" True story.

My "color correction" turned into a 4 hour process to fix the mess I made. This visit turned into a love-affair with my stylist... who faithfully, every 6 weeks, spent 3 hours coloring, high-lighting, low-lighting, and trimming my pretty hair into perfection. And, thanks to her, I discovered that... ta da! I have CURLS!

Sounds stupid, I know. I had no idea. I thought my hair was just frizzy for no reason. But... lo and behold... there are CURLS on this head.

Now that I'm in Cali instead of Florida (land of mugginess and swamp funk), my hair is gloriously almost always frizz-free. It's spectacular.

My sister has always had this insane, thick, shiny bunch of hair, and... being that she's far, far girlier than I am, has always been able to do... stuff with it. That used to piss me off to no end.

A few months ago, I was seriously, SERIOUSLY in need of a cut. I found a stylist here in OC, but... I couldn't afford it. What I want done runs me a couple hundered each visit. So, I talked The Russian into cutting my hair for me. It turned out she's pretty great at it, and my hair was magical. THEN! I even dyed it myself, to amazing results... a lovely chestnut brownish color.

Thanks to my Florida stylist, I now vaguely know how to style my hair, and make curl cooperate... sometimes, it even looks good. Like so:
And so....

I mean, there are still PLENTY of days where it doesn't....

But, fortunately for all of society, those days are not nearly as frequent as they used to be.

No comments:

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails