Adventures in Senseless Blogging #1

So I got a haircut last week, right smack in the middle of all the birthday and family preparations. This came about only with much prodding from Chris (in the “do it for yourself” way, not the “your hair looks like crap” way).

He was right to prod.

I’m not very good about getting my hair cut. It’s not like I have trouble sitting still in the chair or anything. I didn’t even have trouble with that when I was a kid. Back then, my mom made an appointment for me. I’m not sure how often, but plenty often I’m sure. (Mom’s always on top of things.) But I’m the mom now, and I just don’t remember to get it done very often.

There are a few reasons for this:

1. It costs a lot.

2. It requires picking some place and making a phone call.

3. I’m never sure what to talk about with the stylist. (I never go to the same lady because she always tells me to come back in 3 months and I always forget until it’s been 10 and I know she’ll tell me I should take better care of my hair.)

4. It takes a long time and requires someone else to watch Caelyn.

5. I just don’t think about it until it gets so long that it starts looking weird tied up. If I have to resort to a bona-fide bun, it’s time for something to be done. I’m too young for a bun.

If we’ve hung out in person, you already know that I wear my hair up almost all the time. It’s not really that I like it up so much. It’s just easier. It’s curly and there’s a ton of it, so blowing it dry takes forever. Curls without the frizz means applying product and drying layer by layer. For real straightening takes hours. Fake straightening takes curlers.

Plus, it’s hot and I don’t like it in my face. Seriously, every time I wear it down, I can’t understand how women do it. The wind blows and it gets stuck in your lipstick. You’re talking and it winds up in your mouth. You bend over to pick something up and you’re blinded. You’ve constantly got to be fixing it. Even if you’re not fixing, you’ve got to be tucking it behind your ear unless you’re going for some sexy hair-in-the-eyes look. (I can only assume this is how I ended up with icing behind my ear a few years ago.)

And I almost forgot the biggest reason! Walking around with all that free-flowin’ hair, freshly washed with sweet-smelling shampoos and styled with sweet-smelling products? Could there be a better way to attract bees?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not about to cut it off. My mom kept it cut over my ears through elementary school. I didn’t figure out that it was curly until 9th grade, when I realized that everyone’s hair isn’t curly when it’s wet and everyone doesn’t blow it dry straight. I didn’t figure out layers until the end of high school. Since then, it’s been a few different lengths, but I’m still enjoying the freedom of length.

And I wear it down sometimes. I actually can’t remember the last time I wore it all the way down. But I wore it down a lot (relatively speaking) in college for dates and stuff. Or I’d wear it up for the date and take it down for the post-date hanging out (or vice-versa). But even back then it was limited. My boyfriends would say they liked it down, and I’m not saying they didn’t, but really, in the long run, we all know George Costanza was right:

Thick, lustrous hair might be very important to men, but if they stick their hands in it, they’d like to be able to get them out.

Sometimes, I even have these moments where I feel like I really should be wearing it down more often. Like I need to embrace it or something. Not only that, but I start thinking that with all this curly, wild hair I ought to dress to match it. More artsy or something. I’m a poet. An independent. A creative. Into music and all that.

(Remind me to write about my Definitive Year of Style theory in another AISB, especially since I’m at the age where I actually say things like, “Hey, do I look like a soccer mom in this?” or “This outfit doesn’t say, ‘I’m on my way to audition for MILF Island, does it?”)

Anyway, I do wear it down sometimes and I’m not cutting it all off. (In fact, there’s a good chance I’ll be sporting the same style when I’m 80. Who needs the Q-tip when you got the Nest?) But I do get it cut every now and then, like last week. And every time I do, I get the same reaction. Not from the end result. From the stylist. You should see their faces when I untie:

“Whoa, you’ve got a lot of hair.”

“Tanya, get over here and feel this girl’s hair.”

“Honey, this is gonna be interesting.”

“Sugar, this is A LOT of curl.”

(By the way, when I started wearing it curly, my mom would say, “Oh, she’s just got a few waves” to anyone who commented on the curls. Like she didn’t want it to be true. Maybe she just likes straight hair better. Maybe she thought curls were too “wild.” It’s hard to say. But I’m guessing that’s why I always subconsciously think I need to tie it back before I meet anyone’s mother.)

Last week, three other stylists came to check it out and I got all the same comments, plus: “I bet you’ve had a lot of bad haircuts in your life. All this hair tricks you. It hides from you. You think you’re finished and then some more comes out of nowhere!”

Which brings me to another reason I can’t keep going to the same poor lady. I only have two responses to such statements besides, “Yeah, I know.”

1. “At least I live in Texas.”

2. “I was born for the 80’s.”

You can’t be goin’ back to the same chair with the same material, right?

But maybe I’ll give the same lady another shot in December. “Mama Diane” might not remember me anyway.

PS — Next time on Adventures in Senseless Blogging, Mom’s Personality Test Results.