The last time I paid for a professional haircut was in seventh grade and I went to school the next day only to have Richard Fenbert ask me if I got in a fight with a lawn mower.
I’ve always known I have ugly hair. Well, I guess my hair isn’t ugly, it’s just that it’s so thin and fine that it causes me great worry about middle-age balding. I’m not sure Larry David’s “bald community” includes bald women, and I don’t imagine anyone will be rubbing my head for good luck. If a man is balding during middle age he gets to join the bald community. If a woman is balding, ever, people ask how chemo is going.
At work the other day some people on my team were talking about how nice it is to have a professional cut and I was thinking “If only they knew the horror of my haircuts.”
After my “fancy” seventh grade hair cut, which I think was meant to resemble Jennifer Aniston’s famous cut on the early Friends series but instead elicited the lawnmower comment, I made a decision that I believe will last the rest of my life. Why waste the money on a professional haircut when I don’t have much hair anyway and I can cut it for free at home? I don’t need to pay $75 for an ugly hair cut.
At first I had professional haircutting scissors, but after accidentally packing them in my carry on bag they were taken from me by airport security about five years ago.
Then I figured there wasn’t much difference between a sharp edge and that of kids’ fiskars, so why not save even more money and just use my school scissors? Honestly, who is looking at the ends of my hair and thinking “You know, those ends look split … almost like they have been cut with a dull edge.”
A couple different boyfriends have told me I should get my hair professionally done like other guys’ girlfriends do. My response is usually pretty snappy and I try to calmly explain that because it’s so thin, it will look exactly the same except shorter. That is, unless I decide to do something really drastic like chopping it all off and spiking it, which was my aunt Darleen’s suggestion because she thinks it would look nice on me.
Don’t judge Darleen on this terrible suggestion for my head because she improved my looks more than anyone ever could. One time I went crazy for a year and decided to bleach my hair because I thought I was cool. Because the camera was invented before 2004 I unfortunately appear in pictures during that time to which my friend Garry once refered to them as “crack whore Sara.”
I went to get my roots touched up at Darleen’s beauty shop and she just went ahead and put dark brown color on it without even telling me what she was doing. She told me it looked awful, which it did, and I’m truly thankful that she rectified this problem.
Since we are on the subject of hair, I guess I’ll throw this out there – I started shaving my arms about 4 years ago and I can honestly say it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. All through my life I have gotten the same comment: “Your arms are really hairy.”
What is the point of this comment?? It’s SO annoying. “Thanks?”
FAQs about my shaven arms:
– “But how do you have time for that? I just wouldn’t have the time for that.”
Me: “I guess you’re right. I mean, after spending all that time shaving your legs and nipple hair, who has time to spend another 5 seconds swiping a razor over two small areas of forearm skin?”
– “But doesn’t it grow back twice as thick and really itchy?”
Me: “Do my arms look like a pubic region? No, it doesn’t grow back thick and itchy. It takes maybe 5 seconds to shave, so unless I’m unable to locate a shower, razor – or both – for days, it doesn’t have a chance to grow back.
– “But who would actually comment on arm hair? I mean, I have never noticed anyone’s arm hair before. You must be crazy.”
Me: I guess you’re right. It must have been all those drugs I wasn’t doing that caused my arm-hair themed hallucinations.
Just for the record, I use a bic razor to shave my arms, not Fiskars, although before I started shaving my arms I likely could have used Fiskars to cut it off since it was so long.
The moral of this story is that if you happen to encounter another balding, arm-shaving freak, don’t ask any questions.