Spock, Injustice and The Little Lad Who Loves Berries and Cream

There is a certain amount of trust we put in our hairdressers, barbers, cosmetologists, the like. I feel as though today's experience greatly betrayed any and all trust I put into mine today. No, she wasn't even MINE. MINE is still back home, because I couldn't convince her to move here yet. The thing about MY hairdresser was that she always gave me the perfect haircut for my face, figure, and personality. Hilde, I missed you when I first moved, and today I miss you even more.

I was so excited to get my hair cut today, back to its formal glory and cuteness. Luckily, my hair was cut well enough [again, thank you Hilde] that it maintained its shape, even as it grew, unlike it has when others have cut my hair. Somehow half always grows longer, and the texture frizzes out hardcore. So as I lent out my trust today by asking "I'd like the same hair cut, a few more layers in the back, and about 1.5" off in length. Also, please be sure to cut it dry, because I have wavy hair, and doesn't get cut evenly when it's wet" what that actually translated into with a look at the result was "Please make me look like a cross between Spock and the weird guy on the Skittles commercial who is 'the little lad who loves berries and cream,' with no regard to blending my layers. Also, go ahead and chop off two inches, leave no room for anyone who has any skill to fix it, and ruin my day." Did you miss something? Or was that just me?

My excitement bloomed into terror as she started my hair cut by spritzing my hair with water. Water gets things wet.... Water makes my hair wavy.... Water leads to an uneven cut....

But I was pretty chill with it, giving her the benefit of the doubt [why, I don't know, because in the oh, I don't know, seven years I've been struggling with egotistical hairdressers to cut my hair DRY because I'm RIGHT] that she knew what she was doing. She also thinned it while it was wet. Wet. Soggy. Sopping. WET!

By now I was a flaming mess with the look of a wet dog. And she was done. That's when I said "Excuse me.... My hair needs to be dry to tell if it's even, and to see how the layers look." Begrudingly, and after showing my the pricing she dried my hair, snipped on it some more, and gave me the mirror asking for approval and release. She even pulled the line "Let me talk to my manager to see if I can finish you, because I think there is someone else waiting." Rubbish. I anticipated paying the price for a cut and a style, and told her that in the first place. However.... The price I ended up paying was for a shampoo and cut, with no style involved. What I don't understand is how you can cut someone's hair, leave it wet and unresolved, and send them on their way. I don't think so.... That is another $10 please. [: Ridiculous.... Not only that, but that $10 involved blowdrying my hair [which I'd taken great care to do already that morning], and flat ironing it [wrong. Why in Hades would I iron my hair under?! Obviously, it was straight down with no curl when I came in, why curl it and get embarrassed and baffled that I iron it straight when I ask you to iron it straight?!], and adding hairspray at the very end.

Next she forgot the layers in the back to help with volume. By layers she interpreted that as "Would you please chop off the length and leave the sides long so it doesn't transition at all from sides to back?" She also used hair clippers with no attachment on my neckline. Did I ask for that? Did she ask if I wanted my hair shaved? For those of you who don't know, I have a very pretty neckline, with no undesirable hair, and a lovely shape. Well.... At least I used to. I was so disgusted at this point that when she took the cape off and said "I forgot to shape your bangs!" I said very loudly "No, I will do those myself." Funnily, those are the only parts of my hair that look fantastic. There wasn't even anything fantastic about my haircut, other than it was a fantastic disaster.

On my way out the door, I told her how displeased I was with her service, but obviously didn't prove it, as I still tipped her. Why I did that, I have no idea. I really should not have. It was either a pity tip, or I was in such a state of shock, that I tipped her out of habit.

The drama didn't REALLY set in until I got home and more closely examined the damage. And that's when the tears started. Well not really. I passed my brother on my way home, and he on his way out. He didn't even notice. But, I don't get my hair cut for other people to notice. I get my hair cut because it's a confidence thing for me. To have it absolutely botched, with blunt edges, to blending, too short to do fix anything, and really truly ugly to me, is a complete esteem bomb. The only consolation is that hair grows. But that doesn't help me NOW while my hair is still too short. I have shed many tears at the injustice of this terrible act.

This is truly why I'll pay very well for a fabulous haircut. The emotional distress and trauma isn't worth it. And no, I will not post pictures, it's too disgusting for view. But I've written well over a thousand words, so that makes up for it. My plans for the day have disintegrated. I was supposed to go to a career fair. Everything was perfect. My outfit was adorable and professional. My makeup was stunning. My breakfast was delicious. My legs were smooth and lotioned. My teeth were pristine. My hair was an inch and a half too long, but infinitely better than it is now. But as a result of my drive for perfection, and my trust in the unknown, my plans, as well as my esteem, was shot so bloodily I was destroyed.

There is much to be mended. There is a heart to be fixed. There is a head of [not much] hair to be worked on. There is esteem to be pieced back together. There is trust to be rebuilt.

This will not happen quickly. I do believe I'll be overpaying for haircuts until I can find a reasonable price with a great talent. I would rather overpay and look fabulous, than pay standard and look like garbage.

I am not feeling so cheery, and all the byes have something good associated with them. So I will simply say, with a morose soul and maudlin heart, do not get your hair cut at Fantastic Sam's.