Hair today...

So what do you do when you have a craptastic day at work...

I go torment poor Korean hair stylists.

It takes me a couple years to grow enough hair to donate. In the mean time I suffer thru having to wear a cap to bed because fine, Norwegian hair is NOT prone to getting long and you have to baby it. Oh, and you have to use massive amounts of really expensive conditioners, and forget about cutting it for years...

Ok, that part is not so bad. I seriously detest going to get my hair cut. And I really hate PAYING to get my hair cut. Although that part is probably cheaper than all the expensive conditioners it takes to get this kind of hair to grow...

And not to mention the fact that Cliff says that my hair makes his face itch...

So, after a few glasses of vino, I headed for the mall and did the walk up routine at a nice salon... "Um, do you have someone who can do a walk up?" Now, I knew full well who you get when you walk up. You get a young, right out of school stylist, who probably can't speak English. In this salon, she will be Korean. Which is fine with me, I've know lots of very talented Korean stylists, and Sharon will tell you, there are fabulous Korean tailors.

So I go back with this tiny Korean lady, and she painfully asks me what I need done. And I told her that I was going to donate my hair, and needed it all cut off...

"Scuze me?" said with a panicked look in her eyes...

So I told her again, that I was going to donate my hair, that we had to cut off at least 8", but the more we could snag, the better...

"Scuze me?" she said, looking like a snake had her by the throat and she was begging anyone within hearing to save her...

So I reached over, patted her hand and told her that I was not crazy, that I was cutting off all my hair and just wanted enough left that I didn't look Gay... not that there was anything wrong with being Gay, but that I really didn't want Gay hair...

At this point I thought she was going to faint.

So I picked up some bands and started to show her how to do it, and then had to keep moving the band closer to my head as she kept moving them out... in the end I looked like Pipi Longstocking, but with less freckles.

Now if I had had one more glass of vino, or if she had been American... after she whacked off that first pony tail, I would have let out a wail and cried out that I couldn't believe what she had done to me. But that would have been really mean. I did think about it though.

In the end, I had to talk her thru it, but I ended up with J hair. It looks fine. It will grow out. You know, in about 3 years.... But maybe, someone who needs it, will get a head of K hair... and her boyfriend won't tell her that it makes his face itch. Just maybe...