Here's a fun fact: before yesterday, I hadn't gotten a haircut since Christmas.
I always think that if I stop cutting my hair, it'll just grow and grow into long magical Sleeping Beauty locks. But in reality, my hair is thin and stringy and no matter how many products I run through it, it is in fact very un-magical. So after six months of not cutting it, all I was left with were a bunch of split ends. The time had come!
Have you ever had a bad haircut?
I have. Bad, bad.
If you ask me, there are few worse things than being turned around in one of those fancy swivel haircut chairs at the end of your appointment and hating what you see. No! Wait! I take it back! I didn't want the bangs! Here's another fun fact: before my very first high school dance, I went and got my hair "professionally" styled, thinking I would come out looking like this. Instead I turned around looking a little more like this. It was bad news. Bad, bad news. My mom didn't even pretend to like it. Heh. She was equally as horrified as I was. So there we were in the salon, feeling traumatized. There were 30 minutes left before I was supposed to be all fancy and sparkly for my date. Talk about disaster! We looked at each other, and without having to say a word, we knew what had to be done. After breaking a few traffic laws getting home, I jumped in the shower (after removing roughly 8,000 bobby pins), ran the dryer through my hair, and ran out the door 20 minutes later with very unfancy, unstyled hair. But it was okay.
Fortunately, yesterday was disaster-free. And even more fortunate was the complementary glass of wine that accompanied my haircut. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.