More hair tales

Put it off as long as I could, but went to have a hair intervention with Dan this morning. Walked in with old-lady hair -- you know, no style, no purpose, no statement, no point -- and emerged with style once more. Ya gotta beware of old-lady hair, it just sort of creeps up on you. Starts looking flat and lifeless. I start to morph into the old ladies I see at Mass, with their bed heads and pincurls. I sit behind them and cringe. God bless them but yuch!

So there we were, Dan and I, laughing and screaming about this and that. I find out he reads this blog, which flattered me. He even quotes a few choicer morsels at dinner parties now and then. Elk Lake and Maniwaki spring to mind. Why is it that every woman has a tale or two about nightmare visits to the "beauty parlour", as my mother used to refer to it? We sit there watching in mute horror as the stylist methodically destroys our hair before our very eyes. And with a smile pasted on in sheer terror, we say....absolutely nothing! Why is that? Then we actually hand over good money for the torture. Not that I ever get a bad haircut with Dan, but I get one every time I go to the cheap place I usually frequent between repair visits to Dan. It is only because I can fix the messes they create that I can get away with it. After a hundred years, you get to know your hair and how to manage it.

Anyway, we were chatting about how we tell our hairdressers absolutely everything. Why is that? He tells me that a psychiatrist told him it's because the hairdresser is standing behind you and focussing on your hair, not your face, so you don't get into a one-on-one conversation that involves facial communication. It's the same with the psychiatrist. They don't look into your face either. Makes total sense, that plus the fact that Dan and I will never bump into each other in our "real" lives so my secrets are safe with him. And hey, I'm paying him, so he damn well better agree with every ludicrous word I utter. And he does.

As I was paying him and bitching (a little) about how expensive a good hair cut was, he announced that he actually gave me a discount....."because I can". That started me thinking....."mmmm....maybe if I polish my act and make it more like stand up we could get to a point where we meet somewhere in the middle?" You know, I would be so entertaining the hair cut would be a wash. Or better still, maybe he would start to pay me to cut my hair! There's a plan! No, that will never happen. He definitely has the edge there.

As I was leaving, a young woman who was arriving told me how great my hair looked. I tried to tell her that hers did too, but I couldn't because it didn't. It was that long, blonde, crinkly, dark-root do that never looks good on anyone. Was she coming in to get it all lopped off? Hopefully she was waiting for Dan because he would fix her up. Why do some women fight to override their beauty with bad hair?! As I have said before, thank you Farah Fawcett.