This is a picture of me in the 9th grade...right in between Brian and Billy's ages...I was the punch server at the junior prom. It was one of the few pictures I have from back then that shows how long my hair was. And I like looking at pictures where I'm about the same age as the boys....just to see if they look like me or not. I'm thinking that if they don't, I don't have to claim them. :-)
And then there is this picture, taken in the 10th grade when I was trying so hard to get this baseball playing boy to notice me. My hair was long then too. And I was skinny, but I thought I was fat, so it doesn't count....but I wish I could be fat like that again some day! And yes, the boy is Eric, about the time we started dating long ago. Anyway, long hair thrown in a pony tail. Life was good.
But then, shortly after we got married I decided to get it cut off...and it's been a struggle ever since. I've almost always had women cut my hair...but have had a man do it 3 times in my life. The first one was when I was in my twenties. He was cutting my hair and then proceeded to tell me that I would look much more attractive if I wore more make-up. I was polite, but was thinking that he'd look a lot better if he wore a little less! Then back in September, by the luck of the draw, I had a man cut my hair again. He was a little odd. He started talking about how he had just been to the Dr's office...I really wasn't sure if I wanted to know about that or not....then he says, "I've had such an ear ache and the first thing that came to my mind was aids". WHAT?? How is that the first thing you think of with an ear ache?? Please be careful with that scissors! I wanted to run screaming from the chair, but he was half way into the cut so I couldn't. My haircut was sort of crooked and choppy, but I didn't want to make a fuss, so I paid for it and quickly left. I delayed going back until December, right before Christmas. Guess who by the unluck of the draw I got again...the raspy voiced aids guy. Well, no aids talk this time, but he gave me the worst haircut I have ever,ever had! My bangs were almost to my hairline, and crooked. I wanted to cry...and I really don't usually worry too much about my hair.
My dad used to say that the only difference between a bad haircut and a good one was about 3 weeks growth. Well, I've been dealing with this one for over 3 months. So, yesterday I had to run some errands and decided that it was a good day to try to get my haircut straightened out. As luck would have it, I was at the Post Office for my first errand and guess who was there....the raspy voiced aids guy! What were the odds? I quickly decided to make the hair cutting place my next stop, because I knew he wasn't there. Whew. Things were looking up.
So, I get to the haircut place and I noticed that they had a new woman cutting hair there yesterday. I heard her tell the customer whose hair she was cutting that she better not let it grow too long or it would look like a mullet. Nice. Oh...please don't let me get her, please not her, please.....guess who. Her. OK, at least it wasn't him. So, I was explaining to her about this horrible cut that I had gotten and was asking her to see if she could fix it. She was sympathetic and seemed to be listening to me. I explained that it was hard for me to come back because the guy that had cut it had done such a horrible job, that is was my worst haircut ever...then I said I had just seen him at the Post Office so I figured it would be safe to come in today. And you know what she said? "Oh, that's my brother, I wonder what he was thinking." Your brother? Oh why me? Can I slink under this cape thing right now? It's sort of plastic, maybe I'll suffocate or something easy. Man. open mouth, insert foot. She was cool about it....but, I've rarely been that embarrassed in my life. I've sworn off getting my haircut ever again. It's too traumatic. I think I'll just let it grow...until it is long and gray. In the mean time, if you see me wearing this hat...