My Life Is Traumatic

Seriously peeps. It really doesn't get worse than this.

I am traumatized for life.

I made the worst decision EVER. I practiced extremely poor judgement and made a choice that I will have to live with for the next two-three years.

I sat down in a chair of a girl that had been out of beauty school for a whopping four months. And said I wanted something different with my hair.

And she proceeded to put it into a pony tail and chop it off. All of it.

There are parts of my hair that are maybe an inch long. Maybe.

She had to pull out clippers and man shave my neck. I couldn't believe it. I have a man haircut.

I almost died.

I wanted to die.

I couldn't even look up. I sat there for three hours and looked at my lap, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

As I dug my nails into my hands, I just repeated "hair grows back" over and over until I could breathe without making a conscious attempt.

It was a painful experience.

My little Jhanna was with me. And when it was finally over, I asked her if she liked it.

Her response? "It's ok. Well, it's kinda ok."

If you can't please a four year old, who can you please?

When the stylist asked if I liked it, I just kept repeating that it was different. And she finally said, "Different isn't always good in our business."

You don't say?!?!?!?!?!??!!??!!?!?

In all fairness, it is an even, well done haircut. Just not for me.

I am almost thirty years old and I have never had a hair style. I have had long curly hair ever since I can remember.

And now my hair requires an hour of work each day. It has to be blow dried and then straightened. And then it only lasts until 11 when I do pilates. After that, its over and I spend the rest of the day looking like a fruit cake. Seriously.

I felt like my sister needed a pick-me-up so I texted her a picture of my current hair when wet.

Are you reading this peeps? A picture of hair makes other people feel better by bringing them to laughter. I can't handle this.

When I drove home that day, I to myself that I was going to spend the rest of the night in the basement.

You can imagine my horror when I pulled in and my brother-in-law's car was in the driveway. Oh M Ba Gee GEE. I was SCREAMING INSIDE OF MY HEAD.

Luckily he was on the roof, so I greeted him by standing under the awning of the house. I watched his feet as they moved over and over, I could tell he was trying to find me. So I would move closer and closer to the house until I was practically making out with the garage door. And then I saw his knees bend and I knew it was over.

He said, "Did you chop off your hair?"

WHY ME?????
But he said he liked. Obviously just being nice. But still I felt a little better.

Here comes the ironic part peeps. Just last week, Chasey told me that my long, curly hair was one of his favorite features and he made me promise not to ever cut it.

I knew he was going to take it was some kind of passive agressive move proclaiming that no one controls me.

And the first thing out his mouth when he saw the picture I texted him hours before I knew he would get it so I wouldn't chicken out? "Didn't we just talk about this?"

Like I said, TRAUMATIC.

The rest of my day didn't go well. I couldn't even smile. Chasey tried to tell me a funny story that I should have laughed at. And I couldn't. Even though he is a funny guy.

Later in our conversation, as I was literally weeping, I compared myself to a messed up Shirley Temple, Chasey told me that he loved my haircut. He is sweet like that.

Well if you are still with me, which I highly doubt, you are probably wondering what the hello I look like.

And I really wasn't going to post a picture but I hate it when people tell long, semi-complicated stories and don't provide any visual backup.

So here goes nothing...

I had to force myself to smile.