April 19, 2012 by Kim
Have you ever gone against your own better judgement and proceeded with something that you absolutely knew wasn’t in your best interest?
You would even pose arguments to yourself.. detailing exactly why things will turn out differently this time around.
and then for the million-trillionth time, in your life… you take that all-too-familiar timid leap of faith
and promptly crash head first into life’s mop bucket of despair.
I have played this cat and mouse game, with my emotions, since the tender age of 13… when I pumped that very first spritz of Sun-In onto my then virgin hair. Let’s just say that orange is not my color…. and how many times have I dyed or highlighted my hair since that initial event? Do you really have to ask? In staying on the topic of hair, I also have to bring up the “Oh, I think I’m going to cut bangs” moment that I think every female has experienced. Is this scene familiar at all? You’re minding your own business, flipping through a magazine and all of a sudden a picture of a woman catches your eye. She’s quite possibly THE most beautiful woman in the entire history of the world. You realize that you have forgotten to exhale. As you stare silently at this flawless creature you can’t help but notice that she has the most awesome bangs you have ever seen. The bangs are sultry and mysterious. The bangs are captivating… even flirtatious. The bangs could be one of the few things that are right in this dismal world.
You MUST have the bangs. Now! There is no time to call a hairdresser… or make an appointment… or even hunt down a pair of scissors.
After this point has been crossed, there is no turning back… You’re going to lock yourself in the bathroom and you’re not coming out until those exact damned bangs are gracing your forehead.
The next 30-120 minutes will come and go in flashes. Like a drunken night… only with no hangover
You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your hair. The door is firmly shut behind you… magazine placed to the side.
You’re strategically placing the length of your hair up and against your forehead, where you suspect the impending bangs will lay…
You’re staring into the mirror. In one hand you see a comb, in the other you clench the only pair of scissors that could be found. They will either be your kitchen scissors or the kid’s left-handed arts and crafts scissors.
The hair deemed to be bang-hair has been sectioned off. The rest of your hair is in a ponytail.
The hair has been re-sectioned *flash* The hair has been re-sectioned *flash* The hair has been re-sectioned
The first tentative cut has been made. You’re sweating. Some of the cut hair is sticking to your face.
too long… *flash* too long… *flash* still too long
Oh… crap. Too short.
Attempt to correct *flash* more attempts at correction *flash* still attempting.. not correcting
How the Hell did I misplace the scissors?!?!?! There’s still those 3 long strands! I can’t possibly exit this bathroom while sporting these shitty bangs WITH those 3 long strands… They’re mocking me!
WHERE IN THE HELL ARE THE SCISSORS!?! You’re sweating and crying, while perched on the counter-top adjacent to the sink. Every 13-15 seconds those 3 long strands brush gently against your eyelid…solely to remind you of their presence.
You’re no longer sitting. You’ve flung yourself to the ground, in a rage, and are staring straight into the soul-less eyes that are currently facing you in the mirror.
Toe-nail Clippers? What the??? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
You’re shitty bangs are now free of those 3 long strands… and you exhale.
You’re sanity somewhat begins to return, at this point… You rationally tell yourself that any additional cuts will do more harm than good. After a quick glance among your surroundings, you discover your scissors… which have been pierced deep into the cavity of your favorite conditioner bottle. The conditioner bottle that now rests awkwardly at the bottom of the bathtub.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
So…. You now have some home-made shitty bangs, you’re pretty sure you’ve ruined your favorite conditioner and you discover that the kids have been sliding notes, requesting dinner to be made, under the bathroom door… for the last 20 minutes.
What do you do next?
You do what any good woman does… Pin the bastard bangs back, call your favorite salon and get that shit fixed ASAP.
… ooooor you can make a quick visit to YouTube, watch 17 different “bang-fixing” tutorials and continue to deface your hair.
That is, until you do it again 3 years later
and again 18 months later
…and again 5 years later