martes, marzo 27, 2007

7 days

Has it really been more than 7 days? I'm so in trouble.

This post is going to showcase my vanity, because I did something potentially traumatizing, but absolutely necessary, with mixed results: I cut my own bangs.

Many know of my struggle with the bang, beginning with an undying hatred and quickly advancing to obsession as my stand-in stylist "KC" cut my first bangs in such an amateurish fashion that I stormed out of the salon. "What was I thinking?" I thought to myself, as I walked up 3rd avenue to hide in my room until they grew out.

My last bang experience was when I was 5, and my grandma took me on one of her secret trips to the Lemon Tree at the mall, against my parents explicit instructions. It didn't bother me all that much before, because I was a child and she used to give me cookies. But on this particular day, she had me get the most heinous, tiger looking bowl cut ever, and when I showed up at school the following Monday my kinder-friends pretended they didn't know who I was.

Thus, the bangs have always been a difficult for me to deal with. I took a big chance with KC, as my previous little man fled the 34th Street Dramatics without telling me where he was going, and I (gasp) decided to just walk-in. I brought a photo, just to be safe, but still KC failed.

But they the ray of hope who is "Flame" fixed my bangs, and gave me perhaps the best haircut I've ever had. I was "banged" for life so to speak, and have kept a variation of the cut ever since.

And then there was Chile, where haircuts are only $5-$10 but trying to explain "sideswept" in Spanish is a challenge. I braved one salon about 4 months ago. Oh sweet lord. Never again.

Flame told me never to cut my own bangs. Does it make sense that a person whom I pay lots of money to to cut my hair would say this? Of course. However, she had a point...knowing the consequences of the bad bangs, why would I attempt such a precarious activity?

Because I'm an idiot, that's why. I cut my poor bangs in a fit of rage, using dull office scissors. Because I have absolutely no patience. Because really, who cares anyway?

Pity me.

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