Wednesday, May 27, 2009


I got a haircut today. Finally.

Back in last November (that's 2007 for those of you playing along at home) I cut off all my hair and donated it to Locks of Love because my coworker had breast cancer and we were practicing solidarity. And that was the last time my hair was touched by a professional. I didn't want to get a haircut because I wanted to grow it out and I also didn't want to spend the money. So I just waited.

A couple months ago I started thinking that it was looking limp and dry, so I bought fancy shampoo and conditioner.

And then I realized that my highlights had reached a point beyond "passable" so I just started wearing my hair back so you couldn't see the roots.

And my classmates had been so damn nice about it. I would say something like "I think I need a haircut, my highlights have grown out so much..." and they'd say something like "Nah, they don't look so bad!" And either that was bullshit or two days ago my hair reached an critical point wherein I COULD NOT STAND IT ANY LONGER.

So I went today to get it cut and also to do something about the highlights because for the love of God the roots are four inches long.

The stylist was very nice and took me seriously when I said I'm terrible about maintenance and I wanted something that wasn't going to look like crap in 6 months. She dyed my highlighted bits back to my natural color and then gave me some violet "panels" (which I guess means "sections of hair") which is rather different and exciting.

And then we had the following conversation.

"This violet really looks nice on you because your natural color is cooler."

"Thanks... um, what does that mean?"

"You know, it's got a cooler tone, it doesn't have warm undertones."


"It's mousy."


She also gave me bangs, which I'm not quite sure about yet.