PART TWO of my HAIR SAGA

PART TWO:
where was I?
AH yes.
The consultation was about to begin. circa… 11:00.
A half an hour after my appointment should have begun.
so they’re running a little behind schedule. it happens.

I tell her my hair woes and my requests and my future plans (length.)
and she says. “okay, I’m with you. Sit tight, I just have to find my learning leader.”
Minutes pass, and she returns with this spicy, control-y lady who takes over the consultation entirely. I did feel a bit more confident about the entire process though, and was glad she was there.


It is now…  approximately 11:15, and she’s taking me over to get my hair washed. ELEVEN FIFTEEN. My appointment was scheduled at 10:30. In the normal world, I would be DONE BY NOW.

This is when the tweeting began. In an attempt to direct my impatient energy elsewhere.

By this point, I’m hungry. And annoyed. I’ve given up all hope of walking out of this place with my head held high. I’m considering all the different ways I can hide my hair until it grows out, hats? a massive amt. of bobby pins? I just keep seeing the hair fall.

And I didn’t have a lot to begin with.

The learning leader returns, makes some adjustments and gives her the go-ahead to start drying my hair. And so it begins.

I have a lot of hair. And it’s wavy crazy curly. It takes a long time to dry. I tried to tell her this. I tried to warn her.

The learning leader came back to show her a trick to “tame those baby hairs” and it worked, I was impressed. But as soon as she left, little miss sylist lady went back to doing things her way, definitely doesn’t know how to take instruction well…

Once it was “dry” she began to section my hair to straighten in. Again, the learning leader came back and showed her another method to get the “hard to straighten areas” which again, worked and is something I used this morning on my hair. I took something away from it. But did my stylist? No, of course not.

Please notice the time stamp of that update. 12:34. I’ve been in this woman’s hands for two hours. TWO HOURS.

Every time she left to “get product” or “find her learning leader” I straightened my own hair. I fixed parts she couldn’t get to lay flat, and straightened my bangs. Because she was moving at a snail’s pace. And I operate at a much higher speed. And I wanted to leave before she “had theory at one”

HOLD THE PHONE. You’re not sure if you’ll be done by ONE???

Give me the straightener and go to your class. I have no use for you anymore.
Of course that didn’t happen.

And I suffered through the straightening process.

And the learning leader came over at the end and helped thin out the places that I was concerned about and did the final finishing. And, really.. I’m happy with the result. My hair is in good shape and in the end, I got what I was hoping for. But they should have paid me. For my time, and for using my head as an educational learning tool.

Three hours is BEYOND UNREASONABLE for a haircut. FOR A HAIRCUT.

THE RESULTS:

 

After all that, I’m happy.

And I went over to the Moyer’s & had Rett help me “shake out all of my impatient energy” and we got lunch and had a fun afternoon.

But wow was it a long morning.

A STUDENT STYLIST + A LONG MORNING = AN EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED ME

Where do I even BEGIN.

Okay.
I have been in Orange County for.. just about 2 months now.
I haven’t had my hair cut since I’ve been here.
I should rephrase that.
I haven’t had my hair cut by a professional since I’ve been here.
I’ve cut my hair twice.
And I’ve colored it twice.
Because I can’t help myself.

I decided, however, that it was wrong to live a life knowing I can’t straighten my hair because the back looks like someone took a chainsaw to it. Oh, the beauty of the camoflauging capabilities of curls.
So, I made an appointment. With a level 2 stylist. At a reputable beauty school.

I have had some bad experiences with hair… and because I love to change it so much, I’ve become somewhat of a high maintenance client. I’m not ashamed to admit this.

My appointment was at 10:30. By my calculations, I should have been done around 11:30-12 (giving them 2-3 times the length of time a normal haircut should require) just in time to grab lunch and continue on with my day. I didn’t eat before I went. That turned out to be a mistake. I suppose I can at least take responsibility for that much.

While sitting there, waiting for my name to be called, I took note of the different stylists, their style, their fabulous hair, and their energy. They were all good. I talked myself out of being nervous, and convinced myself that maybe this would be fun and that they’re under the guidance of professionals.. “I’ll be fine.”

Then my name is called.
And my stylist is.. the oldest one in the room.
that’s fine right.. she just decided later in life that she wanted to pursue this. I bet she has a great work ethic.
Except.. she has really bad hair.
maybe she’s like those designers/artists who can’t dress themselves or hold a conversation for anything but WOW they do some great work.. maybe??
But, she’s kind of awkward.
stop being so negative. give her a chance!

So she takes me to the back of the room and seats me in the chair.

“What are we going to do today?”
I looked at the paper she set on the table… it said my cut was $12…
SHE’S A LEVEL ONE STYLIST?! WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO????
so I sighed.
And I tried to be as descriptive as possible.. telling her that I don’t want anything drastic and I just want a trim and the shape adjusted a bit… mostly the layers in the back.. and I braced myself for the worst haircut of my life.


TO BE CONTINUED…

Laura Came to Visit!

Friday: 
we met at Irvine Spectrum.. “how will we ever find each other?!” “uhm, is that your car” “oh look, you parked RIGHT NEXT TO ME.”

dinner sounds good… “an HOUR and a HALF to TWO HOURS??

we ate at the Cheesecake Factory instead.

“would you like some more bread? maybe just some more butter? :)…” Grandmother, I hope you’re proud.

“Pumpernickel.” “Comfortable?” “Yes.”


“Oh no my eye twitch is back.”

“Actually no, WE DON’T WANT THE STUPID CHAIR.”

“How do you search for that on the internet?”

“I don’t know… by the look of those muscles, you could be a farm girl.”

we had Corndogs at 1am, because they looked amazing. and they did not disappoint.

Saturday:
We slept in. And we had coffee and bagels. She met my co-workers and saw the office. We went to the OC Swap Meet and then bought ingredients for a picnic lunch. We spent HOURS on the beach and it was the most perfect day. I walked 092837467 miles uphill both ways. We had dinner with Joy & the crew, latte’s and a listening party in the living room. Rett danced to Eminem & JT and named us all Hampsters of prominence in HampsterLandVille. We found our way to Main Street in HB and then to Newport Blvd back home.. we met up with an old friend, made some new ones and laughed into the wee hours of the morning.

Sunday:
We slept in :) And we had coffee and brunch. Then we went shopping and ice-creaming and sun-sitting before we had to part ways. I went dancing that night and didn’t accomplish anything, it was a GREAT WEEKEND.