Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

Hair Crisis!  Has this ever happened to you?  I don't usually give my hair that much thought.  A quick blowdry in the morning on days when I work, a ponytail tucked in the back of my baseball cap on the days that I don't.  My hair wasn't special but it was just fine.  Until it wasn't.

One morning I wake up and I have a hair crisis.  The grey is showing.  The split ends are showing.  The frizz is showing.  Aaak!  Everything is showing! 

Sometimes in my life I have to deal with a real crisis.  It is stressful, emotional and out of my control.  It takes time to resolve.  That's why I love a hair crisis.  Instant fix!

I call my stylist for an appointment.  Turns out the salon isn't equipped to deal with my hair crisis.  They can fit me in three weeks from Thursday.   That's when I tuck my tail between my legs and call Sarah.

A little background--I have no loyalty when it comes to people who cut my hair.  I have really unrealistic high expectations that my hairdresser should be able to turn my thin, fine, scraggly hair into a Cindy Crawford look-a-like mane with a few snips of the scissors.   I also have trouble speaking the language of hairdressers.  "Tapered bob?"  "Shaped layers?" Sometimes I have a picture in my mind.  Sometimes I even bring in a picture.  But my feeble attempts at communicating usually find the end product not exactly what I imagined.

A few years ago I tried Sarah.  She gave me a really great haircut.  It was amazingly cute and trendy.  It just wasn't me.  Think Victoria Beckham's asymmetrical look.  I spent most of my day pushing my asymmetrical bangs out of my left eye.   So I abandoned Sarah and decided to grow my hair long.  For the last two years it has been growing out.  Until one day I look in the mirror and realize, this just isn't me either. 

I call Sarah.  After hearing "hair crisis" she can fit me in today.  She doesn't ask where I've been.  She stands behind me holds up my broken frizzed ends out. "How short do you want to go?" she asks.  

"Shorter than Cindy and but longer than Victoria," I tell her.

So here's the new me.  The new Allison.