Wednesday, July 02, 2008


Anyone who knows me in person, even if only for 5 minutes, knows that I hate my hair. I know all ladies say they hate their hair, but mine is truly detestable. I don't have bad hair days. Once in awhile I have a good hair day. That's it.

If torching it wouldn't mean that I would end up in a burn ward in excruciating pain, I'd do it. And it is actually conceivable that I may come to the point one day where I will shave it all off and take as huge a crap as I can muster right on it.

My hair is baby fine - the kind that when it gets cold outside or even if I go into cold air-conditioning, it looks as if I'm putting my hand on that globe like thing they have at children's museums that electrifies and makes your hair stand straight out. Then the baby-fine strands get into my eyes and mouth and they are too thin to pull out, so I end up looking like a meth addicted cat, clawing repeatedly at her face and spitting.

In theory, there is a hairstyle that will minimize this irritation and probably look quite decent on me. But finding someone who will do it has been an excercise in the most extreme, wrist-slitting futility. No one listens to me. And I'm starting to become rather frantic.

Every hair-stylist I go to insists on putting layers around my face. Not only is this look dated and unbecoming to me, it exacerbates the static effect. So I don't want it.

Here is what I want. I want my hair cut evenly all the way around. I don't want it shorter in front and I don't want it shorter in back. I want it even. I repeat this about 900 times to every hairstylist I go to and they all nod their heads as if they understand.

Then I tell them I want them to razor the ends. It gives my hair some depth without making all these insane layers that I can't manage.

Everyone acts as if they understand what I'm talking about, but they don't. Every time, I end up looking like a very pissed off soccer mom.

Every time, they all say, "You like? It look so much better now." And I respond politely that it looks much better, but next time I don't want layers.

And every time they look at me uncomprehendingly and I know they're thinking, "Why not? You look just like Jennifer Anniston.

I'm really starting to get angry in that frustrated way that makes women cry against their will. It's so silly and weak and unimportant, yet here I am fighting back tears over my stupid hair which I had cut today.

I'm getting it colored tomorrow. Pray I don't go insane. Last time I had it colored it ended up bright orange.

I don't ask for much in the way of fashion or beauty, really. I'm content to capitalize on having large breasts and don't make much fuss about my clothes or make-up. But my hair. Please let me find someone who can help me with my stupid ugly fucking hair.

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