The short hairs

Hair.  The final frontier...Wait, it was supposed to be space, right?  Or repressed homosexuality in space?  Something like that.  Anyway, my topic is HAIR, basically my own hair.  I have a lot of it.  I know you're thinking, "No, LibraryGirl, your hair is actually pretty short."  Okay, let's get specific.  I have very thick hair that is wavy, not curly and not straight .  My sister , in that lovingly jealous tone sisters get, says my hair is obese.  I tend to spend less than 5 minutes fixing my hair in the mornings.  These two hair characteristics (thick and wavy) dictated the way I wore my hair since high school.  In high school, I went to (different) hair salons twice to get my hair cut.  I explained to the stylists that I don't spend any time on my hair, and that I was sort of bad at it anyway.  And both times, I ended up crying after the cuts.  The second time was notable because I got a truly hideous haircut.  [Pre-offensive comment explanation: I have lots of gay friends.  In high school, I actually knew every out gay student at our h.s., and a good amount of the closeted students.  But really there isn't any other way to describe it.]  Apparently, the woman who cut my hair decided that what I wanted right before my junior year started was a big ole 90's dyke haircut.  Yeah, I said it.  It was a sort of female mullet type number that was truly hideous on me.  So I cried afterwards, my mom trimmed it into as pleasing a cut as could be done, and I waited for my hair to grow.    Notice there is no picture of this.  I want you all to still think of me as pretty, mmkay?  This began the long hair period.

Sometime in college, I think.  A pretty picture for my parents.  Notice I am still smirking somewhat.  Hair- very heavy and down to my bra strap in back.

This was August 2009, on our yearly trip to the beach.  It's wet, so it's longer, but dry it was around my shoulders.













I kept getting my mom or my sister (the only people allowed to cut my hair) to trim it up little by little, until it was a little above my shoulders, shorter than it had been in years!  And then...

Shorter...shorter...adding layers....oh, the thrill of it!  I'd always been staunchly against layers.  Maybe because the ones I'd seen looked so obvious. 


But Jen cut lots of crazy layers in, not blocks of layers, but snippets of layers strewn all over my hair.  It's only as thick as a normal person's hair now, which is crazy for me to experience.  It got a little addictive...

YES LAYERED HAIR I MUST HAVE YOU NOW!  I got a trim today after Easter lunch, because my hair grows fast and was getting a little bushy and untidy.  Isn't that a lovely picture I took, with my mouth open like I've lost 40 IQ points and I think the camera might have stolen them?

So, similar stories?  Addictions to the scissors?  Horrifying haircuts?  Discuss.