When my hair used to be short, I would get my hair cut every 6 weeks so that it would keep it’s shape and I wouldn’t look like an overgrown mess.
Now my hair is long and I get it cut every 4-6 months because I STILL (after nearly 2 years of living in NE Wisconsin!) haven’t found someone that I like as much as the amazing woman who cut my hair since I was in 6th grade. SIXTH GRADE people. That’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had! It’ll be (how old are you when you’re in 6th grade? 11? 12? Let’s go with 12) eight more years before Peter and I surpass that mark! So anyways, I really really REALLY miss the woman that can work magic with scissors in Lake Geneva.
When I first moved to Green Bay, I would try to schedule a haircut when I was home, but this woman is a hot commodity and was always booked WEEKS in advance. WEEKS. And so began my search for a new hair stylist.
Over the last two years, I’ve gotten my hair cut 5 different times by 5 different people. And I’m always nervous. With my stylist in Lake Geneva, I would say, “I want something different” and gone would be six inches of hair and I’d have a bob cut. And I’d LOVE it. But it takes TIME and CONSISTENCY to build that level of trust with someone. So when I go get my hair cut, I just get a trim (or as I tell them, “Make my hair look healthy, because I know it looks terrible”) and that usually works.
Since we moved to our new house in our new town and are getting settled in (not settled enough to show pictures yet!), I thought I’d try a hair salon in the new town of 3,500 people.
The good news is that it was only FIFTEEN DOLLARS. ONE. FIVE. When she told me the total, I had to ask her again because I just couldn’t believe it! What a deal!
The bad news is that I left the salon with wet hair. Like, she didn’t dry it. Or style it. I left the salon without even knowing if I LIKED my hair (I got about 4 inches cut off yesterday, so this was enough to warrant a little bit of anxiety). When I was sitting in the chair and she was combing my hair, she asked me how it felt.
Sara: Well, it feels good… and healthy…
Stylist: Great! Come on up front!
Sara: *blank stare*
What I SHOULD have said was, “It feels good and healthy, but I don’t know how it LOOKS because it’s WET.” But I was just so caught off guard that I was leaving a salon with wet hair, that I didn’t know what to do. Usually when they dry my hair, I have them make a couple of changes, or trim a few long ends that they missed. But I wasn’t able to do that this time.
When I got home, Peter asked me if I colored my hair because it looked dark.
Peter: Your hair looks nice! It doesn’t even look shorter! Did you color it?? It looks dark!!
Sara: My hair is four inches shorter. That’s a lot. You don’t think it looks shorter?
Peter: I’m just surprised because it’s so dark!
Sara: It’s not dark. It’s wet. She didn’t blow dry my hair.
Peter: So you didn’t color it?
Sara: No. But she didn’t blow dry it. Can you believe it?! I don’t know what to do with myself.
Peter: I think it looks good!
What a loving husband, lying right to my face to make me feel better telling me my hair looks good when it’s sopping wet and he didn’t even notice it was shorter. That’s why I married him.
So anyways, I was nervous to blow dry and straighten my hair this morning, but alas, everything turned out fine.
But only kind of because I still really miss the woman with magic scissors.