haircut from hell. also, i got a dog

i don't know about you, but i always enjoy my 30 minutes of special attention when i'm getting my hair cut.  i actually cut my hair myself a lot, so the few times i have a professional do my 'do are relished even more.  on top of that, i was really looking forward to it, because i'd had a bad day.  last week was not one of those times.  far from it.  in order for you to completely understand the trauma i went through, i need to illustrate. 

I like to think of myself as a well-kept person.  even when my hair is in dire need of some TLC, it doesn't look all that bad.  i should note that i drew these pictures on my iphone with limited tools, so please add in your own imagination on what a good haircut looks like.  this is what i wanted: a classic, easy-to-grow-out style.  it's as simple as that.

but no,  it was never to be.  first off, i only wanted a trim, but i told the lady to go ahead and wash and style it for me too.
 
1. she washes my hair.  no, she stratches my head for about 5 seconds with a tiny bit of shampoo.  she conditions the same way.  she finished up and while i walk to the chair, i feel the back of my head and confirm my suspicions that half of my hair wasn't washed, or even wetted.  yep, completely dry back there.

2. she combs my hair out before cutting. no, she yanks the top layer straight, leaving the rest a gnarled mess.

3.  she carefully trims the ends, keeping in mind that i told her i was trying to grow my hair out.  no, she lobs off about an inch of the length. nevermind the layers i have, it doesn't matter if only about a fourth of my hair gets cut.

4.  she blow dries and straightens my hair into submission, knowing that i have thick hair and stubborn curls.  no, she scalds my head with the blow dryer, manages to create a huge rat's nest in the back, and singes the top of my hair when she held the straightener in the same place for over 5 seconds.  i called it quits by then, so only the very top layer got straightened, leaving the rest a curly mess. 

5. she noticed that she missed a spot in the back, and offered to fix it.  NO! at that point i said, in a carefully controlled voice, that i didn't want her to cut any more, and that i was leaving.  yes i paid...because i am a pansy.

needless to say, i walked out of the salon looking something like this:

absolutely awful.  i left steaming, with full intentions of calling somebody and complaining.  but by the time i got to my car i was crying.  that's what i do, i cry when i'm mad.  it's pathetic.  i cried pitifully for about 15 minutes when i got home (after finding a glob of shampoo that was dried into my hair) and then sucked it up and told myself i would just go get it fixed the next day.  and i did, and its fine now, thank gosh. i still dont think that taylor understands what happened, poor guy. i'm sure on his side of the story, when he saw his frizzy, weepy girlfriend storm through the front door and march straight to the shower, he was a little confused. 

now that i've got that out of my system, here is the new addition to the family!

I've name her daisy :) and she's the cutest little cuddly thing i've ever seen. I've only had her for a while, so i'll post more about her another time, when i've gotten to know her better.

till then, never get your hair cut at Urban Salon in College Station, especially from a girl who looks like this:

i should have known that any beautician that wears a hat was something to be afraid of....