I look at her in the eyes. She is my total opposite. I'm green, she's purple. She asks me if I'm a swimmer. She can probably tell by the miserable state my hair is in. I reply casually, "Yeah." She comments on how she has never gotten wrong in guessing if someone is a swimmer or not. She laments the day she'll be mistaken. I tell her a key factor to help her realize if someone is truly a swimmer or not: Look at the hair on the neck, if it's short and there's a lot of it, they're probably swimmers because that hair gets broken off by the swim cap. I watch her in the mirror. She looks at my disheveled destroyed disgusting hair in horror. She's brave to ask ANOTHER question: "Did you like, try to highlight your hair, or something?" Duh. If I'm a swimmer, I'm probably in chlorine a lot. Hmm...maybe I'm in the sun too. I explain to her that the sun loves to highlight my hair when I'm not looking. She says, "Yeah, at the roots, your hair is like, a totally different color, I just thought that some coloring experiment went wrong."
Those two pieces of conversation were the deepest parts of the entire conversation I had with her. Everything else was small talk. In fact, the entire conversation was small talk. I must have seemed hostile, as I HATE small talk, and I just don't want to talk to you if you are cutting my hair. Just cut it. I'll pay you and leave. Just don't talk to me, please!
So, you probably have alluded the fact that I cut my hair. Yes I did. No, it wasn't dramatic, you can't tell. I'm just trying to grow it out, but it never makes it past the point I was at, so I am hoping a trim will get it going again.
I forgot why I HATE getting my hair cut. The small talk. The fake smiles. The grimaces at my hair. The price. Looking at myself in the mirror. (When I look in the mirror, occasionally I want a friend, so I give a knowingly grin at my friend in the mirror, only to realize the hair person is watching me. Ugh.) Et cetera.
Anyhow, just thought I would tell you. Have a good day, as I must go do some coaching now. Ta ta toodles.
5 comments:
Small talk with a purple-haired wonder, eh? Sounds...fun.
You cut your hair? Wasn't it already pretty short? How short is it now?
Nat,
As long as your haircut was half as good as mine, you are a blessed child.
Today I did some kind of weird experiment with bobby pins, and the result was my bangs sticking straight up into the air; it was as if gravity had no effect on them whatsoever.
I thought I saw the lady who cut my hair at Harmons. It took two people to hold me back from strangling her as I screamed, "I'll kill her! I'll kill her!
Ha. Just kidding. But still.
As I said, I did cut my hair, about...as little as possible. My ends were so bad, even I let alone my high maintenance friends couldn't stand them. My hair was thicker at the ends than at the middle of the pony tail...that's how split they were. My hair actually looks about the same length. No one could tell I got it cut. Good. I don't get asked, "did you cut your hair?" "No, I didn't. The barber did."
Jos-I think your bangs are rad. You should let them be just for one day. That'd be so cool! Just walk into school like you don't care, and let your hair show that you can be a rock star for a day!
Ha ha!
Maybe for Halloween.
Argh, I always feel like such a twit going to the salon--which is why my hair is currently such a scraggly mess.
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