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my haircut saga!

So this weekend I decided I needed a hair cut. I wanted about two or so inches cut off because my hair was gross on the ends from a two year old bleach whim. I walked into a fairly well-respected hair salon here in Westerville and asked if there’s any openings. Luckily there was one, and I was able to get in right before they stopped accepting appointments. Little did I know that this decision would CHANGE THE FATE OF MY ENTIRE HEAD.Okay, so I’m being a little over dramatic. But guys, this hair cut IS dramatic. For comparison’s sake, here are some older pictures of my recent hair history.

Sophomore year I got an uber short cut as you can see in this pic:

It was cute, but also ticked off my entire family because I was due to be a bridesmaid in a wedding in four months and ZOMG, BRIANNA, HOW COULD YOU BE SO SELFISH, YOU’RE GONNA RUIN EVERYTHING WITH YOUR SHORT, BUTCH HAIR. Which, clearly, my hair was not butch, but as pixish as one can get with curly hair. I let my hair grow out over the rest of the year all throughout junior year and the summer. This is the most recent photo of the length before Saturday’s chop:

Not too much of a significant growth, but I have uber curly hair, people. It bounces. Anyway, here is the photo that was taken about an hour ago with the new hair cut, pulled back with a little black headband:

UNFORTUNATE. WAY TOO SHORT. How did it get this short without my consent, you ask. Well, as I’m sure you’ve all had experience with, stylists can get a little…scissor happy sometimes. During the consultation I asked her for a shorter style that would help my curls lay nicely and not give me the dreaded triangle-head as short, curly cuts are want to do. She assures me that she has just the idea of what I want and to not worry, she herself has curly hair (though it was straightened that day) and that I was in capable hands. We start to make chit-chat and all of a sudden I see her lop off AT LEAST four inches in the front. I started to get nervous and I voiced my issues. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it in the end.” “Oookay…” I said and sat back and just let her cut.

Next thing I know she starts pulling down the bits from the top that she had pinned up. She pulls out a long section and cuts off what appeared to be EIGHT OR SO INCHES. Now, I got immediately vocal. “Whoa! That’s a lot of hair!” She laughed and says “Look how cute you are with short hair. Seriously, you look great.” It was too late to go back now. I let her finish the cut. In the mirror I was confronted with roughly the style in the photo above. AHHHHH! HORRIFIC. Whatever, I looked at it and said “Well, guess it’s good to start my senior year on a new foot…” And I paid for the cut. I went about my business and ran the rest of my errands.

As soon as I came home I fired up my straightener. This is what the cut, thankfully, looks like straight:

BETTER. MUCH, MUCH BETTER. In fact, I really like it straight. It makes me look older and more polished and a little HOT. When I wore it straight one of my guy friends swung by my apartment just to say hi and his first reaction was “Whoa, you look fantastic! Are you going out or something?” This is always an excellent response. The little itty bitty bits in the back help create some diva-esque volume when flipped the right way with the straightener. However, since it’s so short there is no way I can get it up in a pony tail. My only option to get it up off my neck is two little springy pig tails at the top of my head. Not so attractive.

So, uh, that’s my saga. Looks like there’s a future of daily straightening in my future until it grows out a little and looks less stupid curly.

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