I truly don’t know why I get myself all worked up with anxiety over a haircut. It’s not like I am going to a new stylist or salon, my Maria has cut my hair for past 14 years and for NYC, she is a bargain. I could not be more fortunate. Solid cuts, great blowout, money left in bank to pay the electric bill in the end.
Good deal all around.
I always wonder “Will it be what I expected?” “What if, this is the time she makes a mistake and lops a 9 inch section of hair off by accident?”
I have read the beauty salon horror stories you see in every women’s magazine. They love those glaring tag-lines, “In an Instant, it was all gone, stylist hiccuped”. “One Sneeze and I ended up with a Pixie cut!”
Could happen, truth is stranger than fiction!! What if this time is it???
Maria has done my hair flawlessly for 14 years. It’s got to be too lucky of a streak.
Will I be the next statistic??
When I was 20, I wouldn’t have cared if she did give me a pixie with one sneeze. Hell, I would have colored it green and gone on with my day. I was the quintessential Punk Rocker, and I had hair just like Cindy Lauper and the lead singer from the band “Dead or Alive”
You Spin Me Right Round Baby, right round like a record baby right round round round round…
I had no fear in the 1980s. Hell I would cut my own hair, just give me a razor and a bottle of Stiff Stuff! Oh and red spray-in color. Glitter spray on a night out. I was HOT!
Well at least I thought I was hot, my parents would say otherwise..
Today. I am always looking at the “celebrity hair” photos and have on many occasions imagined going to a new or celebrity filled salon. Taking big money and cashing in on a “super cut” from a “super stylist”. Have any of you been brave enough to do that? I haven’t. It would probably cripple me with panic.
There I am in posh $600 salon downtown, waiting for the new stylist. He or she doesn’t know me. What if they mess up? The paper bag resting against my mouth, the hyperventilating breath too quick to catch.
I would be in an Uber the minute the minute the receptionist went to get me a water.
I just can’t bring myself to go for it. For one thing, I am relatively frugal and like a bargain. Second, he/she wouldn’t know me or my hair like Maria does.
This applies to the men too. A colleague of mine at the office was extremely upset his barber retired. The barber had cut his hair since he started at our company and he didn’t want to try someone new. I literally googled 14 new names/numbers near our office for him to call. He eventually found a new barber, but it wasn’t without MUCH angst.
Anyone else love Sheldon Cooper’s breakdown on the Big Bang Theory when his old barber was ill and the new barber doesn’t have his “haircut records?”
Maria, in a figurative sense of course, has my haircut records. And that is what matters.
I should stop my whining on and just be happy that I have hair to cut.
Time to go into the salon. Fingers crossed!
The picture on the title is what I want…
Oh and I journaled all my food today. 700 more calories allowed. 🙂