I'm cheap. We all know that. And a bit over-scheduled. The result is that I don't go get my hair cut very often. Do you have any idea what the going rate for a woman's hair cut is these days?!?! This habit of mine is fine in most climates, but in Texas, I constantly feel a need to be shorn. I have very thick hair--on my head. Once I had someone grab hold and comment--"That's not hair, that's buffalo hide!" When I go and get a "trim", it's usually not the length that's been bugging me so much as the weight of it--the shear insulation factor alone causes great angst. I have great empathy for wooly livestock in a warm spring and recurring nightmares of being pinned down by a burly cowboy and sheared to the nubbins in seconds flat while a crowd cheers--maybe I shouldn't have written that . . . Let's just say at this time of year, I steer well clear of alpaca farms.
So, back to the salon--I always ask for some serious thinning. And I always leave the poor hair dresser and her broom to comments of "Look at all that hair on the floor!--most people don't have that much on their heads!" I must admit, it always looks like I've left a small pet behind. But, oh the difference the thinning shears make!! So what took me so long, you may wonder, to go out and buy thinning shears of my own? Excellent wondering! Mostly the fact that I rarely frequent beauty supply stores, and when I do, I get in and get out without thinking much about what else they may have to offer (people like me drive away Sally Beauty's clientele so I'm usually not welcome to linger . . . and the feeling's mutual). But, a few weeks ago, I went in and remembered, and I priced out thinning shears. And I left with a pair (after paying for them first of course--perhaps it's the shoplifting and not my appearance that makes people nervous . . . I jest!). At that moment, life just got a little better. I went home and thinned and thinned. I thinned my husband and children's hair (Matt has a similar buffalo hide, and heaven help my poor children who had both our genes poured onto their little noggins). A whole new world of postponed haircuts and a little less summer misery opened up before my eyes. Next I'm going to work on the cats!
About a month ago I went into a salon to have my haircut (I know! an actual salon and me!). It had only been about six months since my last cut, but by early May, summer in Texas was in full bloom and I had a dire need to sweat less. The stylist did a beautiful job cutting it short enough to use the clippers in back (LOVE THAT--how I wish I was a petite sprite of a person and I would live life with a pixie cut). And she thinned the heck out of it! Poor lady spent over an hour on my hair--and I'd gone cheap and asked not to have it styled--but I tipped her decently. So now it's been 6 weeks, and I'm wanting to trim it back up--I've contemplated going back in. Especially yesterday when we hit 100 degrees out (I think my head registered at least 120). But then, I pulled out the magic thinning shears this morning and now I think I can hold out for August, or maybe late July . . .
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