I’ve done it. I have cut my hair.
Well I didn’t cut it. I was tempted to. I have been cutting small pieces out when the knots have been too tenacious to tease out. It takes anywhere from 30min to 2 hours to get all the knots out completely. Daily. With my hair plaited overnight. I can only imagine the fairies must get to it while I’m asleep.
In moments of sheer frustration, I have stared purposefully at the scissors with malice glinting in my eyes. But the only pairs I have on hand are a pair of nail scissors that are virtually rusted shut and a pair of kids’ craft scissors that are bright purple. Hardly fitting for my glorious tresses.
But I was patient and waited until I could see my hairdresser (thank you again, gorgeous!) so that she could work her sorcery. She gracefully and deftly hacked into my mangy mane and styled it into a thing of beauty and awe. So I went from hair that looked something like this:
To looking something like this:
Funnily enough the colour has changed slightly also. I think my hair is actually the same colour it always is: a very dark strawberry blonde. But it’s usually darkest at the top. So I’m looking far more brunettish than usual. They say blondes have more fun. But redheads have the most fun. I’ve been a great many different colours in my time and the only time I have been hit on purely because of my hair colour is as a redhead. I fondly remember one foolhardy young lad sidling up to me, cocking his head to one side and dreamily exhaling, “your hair looks like a sunset…”
So the plan is to get through this bout of corpse-hair and enjoy my healthy, shiny Sandra Bullock hair. And who knows, maybe when it’s fully recovered I’ll break out the Corvette Red dye and drive this hair into the sunset.
[Featured image source]