Really, It Would Be Pathetic If It Wasn't So Sad And All...

Yesterday I got a haircut.

Let me insert here that I have let my hair grow out Quite A Bit from the lovely picture you see at the right of the screen. It's now sort of a long bob-ish thing. Oh, and I wear glasses almost all of the time now so as to block my super-hero-type eyes from boring holes into furniture and dogs and small children.

Well, that and to be able to... uh... SEE and all....

You know how it is.

The one thing I did not like about the newish do was the length of my bangs.

Now, my hairdresser and I go WAY back. We both chipped stone tablets for Mr. Slate at the quarry in Bedrock back in the olden days, until she got a better job cutting hair for a living. And she's cut my hair for lo! more years than I can count. We've been through curly perms, loose perms, short perms, long layers, short layers, mullets, all one length of various lengths, a rainbow of colors and everything else you can imagine in our years together. She was the one who fashioned hairstyles for me and my dear stepdaughter for my wedding, and she eventually did DSD's hair for her own wedding. She now does the hair of not only me, my stepdaughter and my daughter, but my husband's ex-wife as well.

We're a close-knit bunch.

Ahem.

For years and years and years I have argued with my Most Excellent Hairdresser about one thing, and one thing only. The length of bangs.

You see, she is from the Let 'Em Hang In Your Eyes school of thought, and I, being almost blind anyway (see above), am from the Cut 'Em High College. I mean really, why did God invent eyebrows if they weren't meant to be seen? And so each and every time I have visited my dear friend we have had The Bang Discussion, whether it be for me or for my daughter.

The ex-wife can handle her own, thankyouverymuch.

Yesterday I walked in looking somewhat like Shep, the Faithful Sheepdog, and told her in no uncertain terms that there would be no argument this time, and that I wanted ONE WHOLE INCH cut off of my bangs. I would settle for no less. And I MEANT it.

And yea, verily, the heavens did echo with the sound of her laughter.

But I stood firm, Ladies and Gentlemen. I stood Oh, So Very Firm in my resolve even as she regaled me with verbal assaults.

"Do you realize that if I cut ONE WHOLE INCH off your bangs you will look like your MOTHER cut them??"

Uh, no I won't. I'm paying YOU to make them EVEN. Mom never could get the knack of that.

"I ought to do it, you know, just to show you how silly it will look. I really should. Because you'll look like you're three years old instead of fifty...."

And someone's STOPPING you? I mean really, I love this woman dearly, but sometimes....

So she did it.

I have to admit that my rear end chewed a little tobacco as I heard the scissors close together for the first cut and I realized I'd possibly made a Serious Hair Mistake. However, there was face to be saved, and so I sallied forth...as only truly idiotic people can do.

Today I can safely say I finally got what I wanted from her. I can actually see without swiping my bangs to one side, and I have found the Island of Lost Eyebrows.

But I think I'll have her wait for a while to trim them. Because this fifty-year-old that looks like a three-year-old has to put her foot down every once in a while just to show that SHE'S NOT THE BOSS OF ME!!!!

And I think you can see how VERY mature I've become about the whole thing.

Next time I think we'll go for a half-inch compromise.