My hair. Take it or leave it.

March 18. Day # 5 I got my hair did. Have I mentioned, I'm impulsive? I've had long hair for quite a while. Every once in a while I get a wild hair up my ass and want it cut right then. Not in a week when I can get an appointment with my gal Jessie, but right then. That happened the other night. I was looking at myself in the mirror and I knew it was time for a messy bob. I picked up scissors and started chopping. I did the left side first and it looked good. I was quite happy. I picked up a big chunk towards the back of the other side. As my left hand was curving around my face to cut the chunk I was holding, my mind said don’t do it yet, you are holding too big of of a section and you’re holding it at the wrong angle. As I finished the thought the 2 1/2 inch blunt cut was in the trash that was perched on my counter. Fuck. I tousled the right side of my hair a bit and there was a giant bald or missing section in the middle back of my hairline. I tousled it again. Same thing. Well fuck. Oh well, who cares, it’s only hair. It will grow back. This is something I have told myself quite often. If I do a haircut I don't like, I remind myself it'll grow back. It's not the end of the world. Hell, I might just shave my head one day if I feel like it.

Two days after I cut my hair, I flew to Denver and then drove the rental car to my friend Minda’s home. Minda is one of my dearest friends. She moved to Colorado a few years back from Santa Monica. I was so sad when she moved. But now I am so tickeld because I get to stay with her and her sweet husband Johnny when I go visit Audrey. They live 10 minutes from Boulder in a town at the foot of a mountain called Eldorado Springs.

It was the Pi Beta Phi mom's weekend at Boulder. And I was so excited to spend the weekend with Audrey. When I walked into Minda's house, she just looked at me for a while. And then she said, “Wow, you're wearing your hair shorter.” Now she didn't say, “Oh my gosh I love your haircut.” Or “When did you get your darling haircut?” Or “Short hair looks so good on you.” She said nothing like that. Just “wow you're wearing your hair shorter.” Now I already hated what I had done to my hair, but that comment took my hair hate up a notch. I said nothing back except, “Uh huh” then I went out to the car to move my bags in.

I got up the next day and used dry shampoo before I headed out in the morning. We were going to shop in the morning then I would come back to Minda’s house to get ready for dinner. I used the dry shampoo and was stunned that my fucked up haircut could look worse then it did yesterday. Dry shampoo was not my new haircuts friend. I was flabbergasted. I don't remember my hair looking that bad ever in my life even if I hadn't washed it for four days because I had the stomach flu. What have I done? I had no more time to waste with these unhelpful thoughts. I threw on an outfit which didn't look cute either because I'm about 6 pounds overweight and headed out the door. I swung by to pick up Audrey and we went for breakfast and then shopping. I had on some green camo looking pants with a hot pink sweater and horrible hair. What was I wearing that? I was drawing too much attention to myself. I looked at my reflection in a window, passing a store, and I couldn't believe how my belly was hanging out and my sweater was too short to cover it and there was that fucked up chunk missing in my hair and now I was noticing that I tried to layer the front and it looked like my hair was growing back after it had all fallen out. Or like I was sick and losing my hair. Holy shit. I walked into the first store I spotted and bought jeans off the rack and replaced my green camo pants with dark jeans that held my stomach in, but my hair! The next store I ducked into, I spotted a knit cap with a big pink fuzzy ball on the top of it that match my bright pink sweater. Perfect! I picked that sucker up, plopped it on my head, and said, “How much?” The sales lady said, “That’s $130, but I’ll give it to you on sale for $70.” “I’ll take it,” I said. Audrey said, “Mom, that’s too much for a knit cap.” I said “Kid, at this point, with this hair, I’d pay a grand.” Okay, problem areas covered. I am good to go. Where shall we go now my little darling?

We shopped for a couple more hours and had a great time. When we were both worn out, I dropped her back at her dorm and headed to Minda’s to shower. After I got ready for dinner and blew my hair out, Minda said, “Leigh, can I suggest something to you?” “Sure,” I said, even though I didn’t mean it. “Whoever cut your hair this time, don’t ever go back to them. They did a terrible job.” Well Minda,” I said, “I can’t do that. I am going to be with that person for the rest of my life.” “Huh?” She replied. “It’s me Minda. I cut my own hair.” “Oh my God, what were you thinking?” She burst into laughter and at this point I did too. “I wasn’t thinking obviously. I don’t know what happened, I have never done it this bad.” We laughed more. She said, “You look like your sick.” I said, “Ok, that’s enough. I got the point and I have to live like this until I get in with my girl for six more days. Take it easy.

Today is the day I got in with my girl, Jessie. Thank God! This talented sweet thing got me presentable again. Thank you Jessie! I am grateful for you. And Minda, next time, try and show a little mercy!