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Cutter's Remorse

3/6/2014

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The day following a haircut is like walking out of a strip club after sunrise, the weight of my seemingly good decision weighing heavily on my head - or in the case of a haircut, not so heavily. I wanted a trim before leaving for a trip and my regular girl wasn't available. I broke one of my major rules and went with a newbie. Don't get my wrong, she's got skills, but we just don't have the years of curly rapport necessary to tame my mane. No matter how excited I get about a haircut, the day after is worse than any hangover. 

Before the haircut: Gee, I can't wait for my haircut! La di da di da! It will feel so wonderful to get rid of these split ends!

During the haircut: Oh my gosh, this is heaven. It's a massage for my head. And everything smells so good. And this lady is so friendly! Oh look, my split ends are going away. Yay!
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Immediately following the haircut: I'm so happy I got that haircut! And it was a great idea to ask her to blow it out. I look like a movie star. It's so amazing that I can run my fingers through my hair! Getting that haircut was the best idea ever!












The morning after the haircut: What the hell have I done? Where's my hair? I miss my long split ends! I'm so sad that my hair is gone. Why won't it fall the right way? Did she not hear me when I said layers on top and thin on the bottom? No amount of product will fix this shape. There's a reason I never strip my hair with shampoo. I look like a freakin' frizzy pyramid!

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One shower after the haircut: I know my hair is curly, and it's usually very forgiving, but, c'mon, isn't this a little crooked? 













Two washes after the haircut: Ok, I'm starting to look like myself again. I have to tug on my hair all day long so that I don't look like a springy chia pet church lady, but I can handle this. Another pound of leave-in conditioner and it will feel weighed down enough for me to feel normal. I'll just wear my hair in a bun for the next three months. I'm never getting another haircut again. 

Two weeks after the haircut: Blech, look at all these split ends. Maybe I should get a haircut!


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Author's note: As is typical of a curly girl, I fell back in love with my haircut about an hour after writing this blog post. Mind you, that took hours of tugging and flipping and bunning and loosening, and I will wake up looking like a scarecrow, but as of this moment, I'm happy.

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