Sharp, cutting objects should be avoided while experiencing spousal discord.
Hubby and I had what turned out to be a minor argument last weekend and I immediately felt the overwhelming urge to trim my bangs.
(You can see where this is going, right?)
I tried to squelch that urge because I knew what would happen, but ultimately I was not strong enough, and sure enough, my bangs are now way too short and uneven to boot. Apparently the gunk on the edges of the scissors was not conducive to clean, straight lines. Who knew?
I was tempted to also trim up the sides, but a recurring vision of mullet-ville kept me from taking it that far. The internet tells me it could have been worse. I could have turned out like this kid:
I think my hair is going to be my downfall. Kind of like Samson! Except… well, my hair isn’t that long, and I don’t have super-human strength and there is no “love thang” between me and someone named Delilah. So really, not like Samson at all. Scratch that. Cancel my order. Let’s back up.
Really, the problem is that I hate paying for haircuts. I’ve had short hair my entire life and short hair means a freaking lot of haircuts! And it’s expensive! So when I decided to grow my hair out, I thought that would reduce the expenditures in that area. The only problem is that my hair doesn’t grow the normal way. Instead of growing longer, it grows wider. I look like Alice from the Dilbert cartoons.
Sometime in the next couple of weeks I’m going to have to suck it up and go pay for someone to fix my hair. In the meantime, I’m goin with the side part, scrunch it all together, say a Hail Mary and call it “the curly look”.