So remember that one time when Mr. J and I butchered my hair? I tried to style in such ways that I could have it grow out before getting fixed. But it was bad. real bad. Looked in the mirror and all I saw was a mullet! Which some people can rock, but I totally cannot. So I bit the bullet and went to a hairdresser. Armed with the story that "my friend" cut it and "she" messed up. That way if mr j ever wants to go there they wouldn' t know it was him to cut my hair.
The ladies there kept commenting on how badly cut my hair was and how my friend really didn't know what she was doing at all. And yes, how I had the makings of a mullet. The hairdresser tried to save as much length as she could but it's still pretty short. Which I expected. And I hated it. I got home and cried because I thought it looked so bad. I have since embraced it and think it doesn't look horrible. I'd like to say I haven't since entertained thoughts or imagined ways of cutting my hair again; but alas I still want to. I do think though that after reminiscing of the horror that was this past hair cutting attempt, I will perhaps enlist the help of my mom and mr j next time. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment