Friday, May 15, 2015

“Every Damn Time!” – Michael Bluth

I was going to write a post about my weird obsession with dream interpretation, but that will have to wait for another day because I did something marvelously stupid today and it warrants a post.

My hair is super long right now; I think longer than it’s ever been.  And let me tell you, long hair is a hassle.  It gets stuck in seatbelts and car doors, is found everywhere around the house (shower drain, carpet, ‘Geddon’s hands, ‘Geddon’s binkie, food, socks, et cetera ad nauseam), and causes me slight whiplash when I’m cuddling with The Man and go to sit up without realizing his arm is resting on top of my hair.  Plus it gets knots in it quicker than a sailor’s necktie and takes eons to style.  I had to wake up two hours early one Sunday because I wanted to curl my hair for church.  So of course, I’m ready for a change.

Now, the tense in that last paragraph was a little off; mainly so I could create some lead-up to this story.  See, I cut my hair off today.

I’ve been wanting to take off a few inches for a while now, and my bangs were much longer than I like them.  Now, my awesome sister-in-law who lives mere minutes away is a cosmetologist and has never given me a bad haircut, but she’s at a busy time in her life right now and I didn’t want to hassle her.  Plus, it always looks so easy when you read the tutorials online.  So I trucked Stormageddon off to Sally’s (a beauty supply store), bought some scissors and a mirror so I could see the back of my head, and hurried home.  I decided I would document the entire experience with pictures so I could show you all how incredible I am at following directions. 

Ready for my anti-tutorial/how-to-not instructions?

Get you some scissors, fool.  I bought two kinds – one for creating nice layers (one side is toothy) and one for straight-up cutting.  I had to use scissors to get the scissors out of their packaging, which I thought was kind of funny.  Does it work that way with office scissors too?  I threw “Geddon in the background to make this picture more interesting.


Make sure yous chilluns is entertained.  I tried a mirror, and that didn’t work.  So I put him next to me in the bathroom with his jumper and that kinda worked for a while…but mostly he was just angry with me until I threw food at him.


 Admire yo’ long hairs.  It’s going to be a while until you see them again.  Well, I guess you’ll see them in the trash can, but that’s just kind of depressing.


Bangity Bangs.  I used this tutorial to cut my bangs, but I wanted to make mine a little bit shorter than what she had, so I ignored the “cut a tiny bit at a time” rule.  Stupid, stupid me…


Cut those ends off.  I kinda followed haircut #3 from this site.  And it turned out okay, but didn’t really look like I’d done much other than butcher my bangs.  Stormageddon thought it was hilarious when I had my ponytail in front of my face.


Become a total moron and come up with your own “clever” way of getting some layers in there.  Here’s where it all really fell apart.  I thought, “hey!  I want ‘a little boost in the back’ like haircut #2 boasts, but I want to keep my length.  Maybe I should try it with just a section of my hair!”  I honestly thought this was going to turn out awesome, you guys.  I felt so smart.  I even came up with the ingenious idea of double-banding the hair so I would still know where to cut even if my fingers slipped.  It did not turn out well.  Maybe if I had used tiny amounts of hair at a time instead of half of my head…oh well.


Freak out and cut off the rest of your hair to match.  My sanity was long-gone by now.  You can see it in my “crazy eyes.”


Cry and sweep up your luscious locks from the floor.


Wash and dry your hair to see if that makes it look any better.


Hide it in a tiny ponytail.  I’ve always been curious about how I would look as a boy.  Now I know.  Insane.

And now I’ve got an appointment with my sister-in-law anyway to have her fix my hair, so I didn’t help anyone with my solution.  The funny thing is, I’ve done this before.  And EVERY SINGLE TIME it turns out bad.  I guess I got a little cocky because I’ve been buzzing The Man’s head for him the past few months and it usually looks pretty good.  I just figured wielding scissors would be exactly like buzzing a head a uniform length.  Because that’s how my brain works apparently.


Moral of the story?  Don’t cut your own hair.  Ever.  And marry someone with a sibling who graduated in cosmetology.

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