The other day I got my hair cut.  It was the first time (other than a pre-wedding trim) in three years.  I’ve never been one to be nervous when getting my hair cut – quite the opposite actually.  I would always let my hair grow out to a point where I would get bored (usually just past my shoulders) and then I would go get it all chopped off and start all over again.

When I lived in San Diego (2006-2007), I figured I would try the blonde thing.  Seeing as I was living in SoCal and all.

It was a horrible disaster.

Let me tell you a story…  Keep in mind that this whole entire thing unfolded over the course of 24 hours.

Day 1 (early evening, post-work):

I decided to get my hair cut and colored and went to an unfamiliar salon down the road from our apartment (I hadn’t been to any salon in San Diego at that point, and had no one I “trusted” yet).  Mistake #1

I told the girl what I was looking for (my standard haircut, blonde, not orange, lighten my eyebrows slightly if needed).  She questioned how short I wanted to get my hair cut but I knew I liked that cut on me and wouldn’t let her convince me otherwise.  Fine, moving on.

She did the color – it was looking orange to me.  She insisted that it wasn’t orangey at all, and proceeded to cut my hair.

The haircut came out awful.  My hair was orange.  She had BLEACHED my eyebrows.

I was in shock.  I paid her (tip and all – yes I know I shouldn’t have tipped or even settled for it if I didn’t like it, but I was in shock) and left.

I cried in the car.  I went to the grocery store.  At this point I still thought I could save the blonde thing.  So I got a box color and went home.

I turned my hair highlighter yellow.

I cried.

My husband (then boyfriend) said “No, really, it looks… good.”  Poor guy.

I cried some more.  I called my friend who I worked with and told her to let them know I would be late the next morning because there was NO WAY I was going to work like that.

Day 2 (early morning, pre-work):

I put a bandana on my head and went to yet another untested salon.  I asked the woman there to just put me back to brown, as close to my natural color as possible (I know it’s not exact, especially after the horror my hair had experienced).

I pointed out my natural color (light/medium brown) on their sample swatches.

She said “That’s not your natural color.  THIS is.” and pointed to BLACK.

I should have run away then, but I didn’t.  I don’t know what I was thinking.

She proceeded to dye my hair black, and left the highlighter yellow as “highlights” so now I had what appeared to be black and white striped hair.

She also dyed my eyebrows black.  And in doing so, smeared black hair dye ALL OVER MY FACE.  Thus dyeing every tiny hair on my face black.

I was unaware of all this because I had my glasses off.  (Yes, my eyes are that bad.)

The moment of truth came, and I was in shock again.  I paid her (yes, again) and left.

I sobbed on the phone to my mom all the way to work.  At this point, I was aware of the awful color, but unaware that she had smeared black dye on my face because I hadn’t gotten that close to the mirror.  I think I took one look and ran.

I got to work and ran into my boss as I was walking in.  He said “What’s going on?” as in wondering why I had been late.  He took one look at me and all he said was “Oh.”

I should have taken that as a sign that I should just go home.

One of the other guys I worked with had just gotten married and was very “well trained.”  He offered me chocolate.  Good guy.

Later in the day, I headed down to the bathroom and THAT was when I noticed all the little (now) black hairs on my face.  I freaked out.  I don’t know where I managed to find them, but I found a pair of tweezers and spent about a half hour in the bathroom pulling them all out.

I couldn’t take it.  I left work early and went to yet ANOTHER salon (the one I had originally wanted to go to but they were closed).

When I walked in, I took off the bandana and just said “PLEASE HELP ME.”

The girl there was amazing.  Somehow she managed to work a miracle and rinsed all the nastiness out of my hair.  She also fixed the bad cut girl #1 had given me.

My hair ended up awesome!  It turned out brown with some pretty sweet highlights (no extra dye added – this was just what remained after she rinsed it).

I don’t have a good picture just of the hair, because this was well before my blogging days and I never thought to take a picture.  But this was a couple weeks after…

At Joshua Tree National Park

So that’s my 24 hour hair horror story.  What’s yours?

There were requests for pictures from my haircut this week…


After: (Not the best picture, but oh well.  They can’t all be good!)

She cut off over 12 inches.  It was put into a ponytail and hacked off to donate to Locks of Love.  Hooray!

I feel so much lighter!  It’s also great to not have anything on my neck when I run.

Also, maybe now I won’t be confused for one of my students, or worse, a prospective student.  (Yes, it’s happened.)

And just to leave you with some pictures of Max because I love him and will miss him when I head back to New York tomorrow…

That’s a queen bed.  He’s humongous.

(PS – That quilt is another of my sewing projects.  I kind of wish I had kept it.)

Such a sweetie.

I will most likely be quiet for a couple days as I drive back to New York with my mom.  But I’ll see you on the other end of the trip!