Emergency Haircut

For some unknown reason, I've been drowning in a blogging funk.
Perhaps it was the mere craziness of moving while attempting to stay afloat in many other responsibilities.
When everything calmed down, I wanted to blog, but I couldn't think of anything good to write about.

Moving? Don't want to beat a dead horse.
The heat? Too cliche.
Olympics? I couldn't share anything you didn't already know.
My curtain drama? Perhaps, but I feel I've been complaining a lot lately and need something more lighthearted.

Lucky for me, the perfect blogging story took place last night. In our living room. While watching the Olympics.

Rewind to several hours earlier in the day when a conversation took place:
me: I really need my hair trimmed. Would you rather me pay $20 to get it cut, or just have you do it?
him: Fine. I'll do it.

My dear friends: husbands in Chiropractic school are meant to be Chiropractors. Not hairdressers.

After I gave him (what I believe to be), a very nice haircut, it was my turn. Of course he forgot the conversation we had earlier, or maybe he purposefully put it out of his mind, and with some serious prodding he finally took up the shears.

Red flag #1: "I have no idea how to do this".
Red Flag #2: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you have layers. How am I supposed to cut that?"
Red Flag #3: "So, is there supposed to be like a 1 inch or less difference between the layers?"
Red Flag #4: *hack, hack, hack, hack* silence. "how's it coming, babe?" "uhhh...."
Red Flag #5: "So remember the first time you cut my hair? And it wasn't very good? Well, this is the first time I'm cutting your hair, so it might not be very good..."


After what seemed like an eternity, I, thankfully, reached back to feel how much had been cut off. I'm not entirely sure whether I gasped or screamed, but I quickly urged him to stop. He was more than content to do so.

source

For the protection of myself and my husband, I did not take a picture. 

Just imagine 3 distinct layers. In three straight lines. An inch above each other. No blending.
Lucky for me, our downstairs neighbor is LDS, has a hubby in Chiro school, and is also a hairdresser.
She got a late night phone call:

"So, uh, I wanted to save some money so I had my hubby cut my hair and uh, can you fix it?"
"How bad is it?"
"Well, I won't wear it down until it's fixed..."
"Ooh. Yeah, that's kinda bad. Come on down and I'll fix it." 


At 9:30 pm, I got an emergency hair cut.
His parting words as I headed downstairs: "tell her it's not my fault!"
I think he felt bad. Maybe a little embarrassed. But I was most definitely not mad. In fact, I was giggling pretty hard. So was my friend who fixed it.
I also felt much better after she told me stories of many other wives doing the exact same thing.

Moral of the story with my hair?: 

Always get it done professionally. 

Instead of trimming off about 1/2-1 inch like I had planned, it's now about 5 inches, or more, shorter.


And just a little reminder to myself: when messing with my hair, in my experience, trying to save a buck by doing it at home typically results in an emergency trip to the salon to get it fixed, which then becomes more expensive than had I gone to the salon in the first place.

I know because my hair has been bright yellow-orange before.

Dear hairdressers: 

I promise I will never cut or color my hair at home again. 

But it all worked out in the end, because now I have a super cute haircut that I absolutely love! Now, to just get it colored...

Kinda gives an idea of what it looks like.

I hate self portraits.

One of "Those" Days

Have you ever had one of those days?

It starts off with an outside temp of 85 degrees in the afternoon, resulting in an inside temp of 78 degrees that night. Then the air conditioner decides not to work. The breeze outside decides not to blow. And by the next morning it's still 77 degrees. Inside. With no a/c. Or breeze.

Then your puppy, who has been completely sick and lethargic for the past 72 hours, is suddenly better and decides to act like you've never fed her in her life, you've never played with her in her life, she's never seen people before in her life, and she's never been trained (including kennel) in her life. This equates to crazy-hyper-out of control-ball of energy.

Next, since it's a beautiful morning and your porch is clean, you let the kiddos outside to play. Your dear son decides it's a good idea to bust through the screen door so now, instead of sliding horizontally, it opens like a flap, only connected at the top.

Just after that happens, you walk inside to find goldfish all over the floor, 99% not intact.  Also, since your puppy has forgotten that her kennel is her safe place and now thinks it's torturous, which results in non-stop barking and whining, you take all three outside for a walk and potty break.

Note to self: my kid 1 likes going one direction, friend's kid 1 likes going a different direction, puppy has a mind of her own, which does not coordinate with either kid. All of them find joy in running into the street.

When they're finally corralled and headed for home, friend's kid continues her new game of wrapping her arms around my kid and saying "caught you!" He thinks it's hilarious until she comes up behind him. He doesn't have great balance, so she accidentally knocks him over. Face meets concrete.

Since we all need some air conditioning, a break, and Dark Chocolate covered Acai Berries, we head to Costco.

I think my mom finds great joy in my mile-a-minute phone calls recapping every moment of my crazy morning with two kids and a dog. It probably brings back great memories and gives her a tiny twinge of "now you know what I went through. I'm so proud."


And when I bust up laughing and giggling the whole time I'm recapping, I know it's a good day.

because it's ALWAYS better to Laugh!





p.s. Since I know you're dying to know how I'm feeling since I got shingles...well, let me tell ya, it seems like I was never sick. I had about one night and one day I felt pretty weak and icky, but for the most part I was able to carry on with life as normal! Thank goodness! Now the rash has scabbed and is disappearing so I'm not contagious and I feel 100% fine. yay!