The title above exists because I started this entry yesterday, on April 3. But it just went on and on and I didn’t care for the ranting so I’m starting over today. It’s still long but somehow slightly less specific in its complaint-driven storytelling
The thing is that I don’t consider myself to be a very vain person. I don’t care about wearing brand names and leaving the house with make-up on (though I probably should). Although I do have a blog where I go on and on about myself and my life, so perhaps I am vain enough.
You never realize how important your hair is until a stylist messes it up, like they did for me on my birthday. I went for a re-dying of my purple, which is quite a process, and a hair cut. And an extra-special massage with hot stones and a sugar scrub.
I asked for layers, and when I left it all just felt very…off. I second-guessed myself and thought maybe I was imagining things, but when Mom looked at me funny at my (very lovely) birthday dinner after I pointed out that I’d gotten a cut, and said “It’s uneven!” I knew I wasn’t imagining things.
I know a good haircut. This, for example, from over a year ago, is a good haircut.
Sadly, I do not look like the above photo anymore.
I’ll return on Saturday for them to fix my hair, but to be honest I don’t want to go back. It’s awkward. And I can’t pay someone else the $100 it will cost for them to fix it. Also awkward is the fact that I will have to confront them about the bullshit $10 spa credit they issued me after they gave me a standard massage and not the extra special one I paid for as a birthday treat. ON my birthday.
Did I mention all this went down on my birthday?
43 is stupid.
While I’m on a roll here, I also smacked my ear on the car door as I was getting in to drive to the spa, so all I needed was to lose a marble down the drain for it to be a legit Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. I sat in the car crying like a big baby lady for three whole minutes feeling lots of feelings and pain, confused about how I’d manage to do that, and offended that the door had the nerve.
My ear still hurts if I poke it.
Yes, I realize the absurdity of this complaint with the spa stuff. There are people starving in my city, and other people are homeless, and ill, and single! (oh wait…), but it was my birthday, and I had taken the day off from work and made special plans. I also wrote fat checks to The Man for taxes so my wallet is feeling it and so are my feelings.
So by Saturday I will have been walking around with my weird hair with its uneven front and jagged layers that come to a point (why on earth does it come to a point in the back?!) for about four days.
I’ve been surprised how much it’s effected how I feel about myself.
In fact, I woke the next morning at 2:30 and was wide awake over it all for two hours, ruminating about the disappointments of the day prior and wondering how it was all going to end up.
Spoiler alert – I’m pretty sure everything will be fine.
The rest of my birthday was perfectly fine. It’s the aftermath that has been weird, coupled with a stressful work week.
Dinner with my family was fun and tasty and ended with ice cream at Mom and Dad’s. A lovely salvaging of the day. And just prior to heading out for dinner, my Little did indeed make it by to give me a birthday hug along with some lovely gifts and my favorite part – a sweet card where she (brag brag brag) told me how much she loved me and our adventures.
I love them too. And her. So whatever. Hair grows back, right?
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