• My Love and I

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My Hair

Prior to our vacation next Friday, I decided I would get my hair done. So what, right? Wrong. This is a big deal. I debated for a week then made the appointment and have had anxiety since. I don’t mess with my hair. I haven’t been to the hairdresser since August ’09 and wouldn’t be going now if my Nice N’ Easy dye job wasn’t faded and awkward looking. It’s all because of this… 

 

 Sorry for the bad pic but it’s an iPhone picture of an early 90’s picture. Really I’m not sorry at all. The blurry version will burn your corneas less than a clear one. 

 I’m sure even with the blur you can make out the million and one things wrong with this picture. The first being those dresses, you can’t see it but they had a big pink bow on them and were obviously covered in large pink flowers. And Easter was forever ruined. Second, why in the world do we have our arms out as if pretending to me the Michelin Man. It was probably in utter disbelief that our parents thought this was “cute”. Or we aren’t trying to touch the things any more than necissary. We could also be preparing for our escape. Mom, please know I am still working on forgiveness.  Also, note, my lower jaw is not pulled back and I have no facial deformities, my top teeth are just that bucked. Damn thumb sucker.   

See The Middle with her cute blonde, straight and shiny bowl cut? Cute right? Even the sun is shining off of it. I had the same cut. Then someone decided to perm it. This explains the frizzy halo of hair you see atop my cranium. I don’t know if The Mom thought it was cute or if I saw some celeb in Teen Beat.   

Either way, Mother, you had a huge lapse in judgement to allow this to happen. I know I was a bit of a difficult child and telling me ‘no’ wasn’t easy but you should have stood firm on this one. In my later years I would have appreciated it because eye-melting photos like this one wouldn’t exist.   

I was maybe 10 or 11 at the time of this photo and in my class of 25 at the Catholic School I couldn’t exactly blend in. And so my fear of hairdressers and change began. Might I also say that as a hairdresser is it not your job to say, “oh honey, this is not the look for you. Lets try…” I feel let down by the salon as well.   

I think this was the summer that my parents sent us to visit our Aunt and Uncle in Florida for a month. Probably in hopes that the atrocity of my hair would grow out and they wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. I also spent this summer over compensating by telling anyone and everyone who would listen that I was “adorable”. More like annoying. By the way does anyone know who invented the video camera? I have some long overdue hate mail I need to send. 

I’m pretty sure I never got anything but a trim for the entire decade following this catastrophe. The hairdresser asks how much I want to take off and I reply with as little as possible. I also don’t go back until the split ends are split 3 or 4 times.   

About 2 years ago I started to get a little adventurous and messing with my color going darker and darker until I got the RED on my wedding day. Shame on me. I guess the foot I broke 3 weeks before the wedding wasn’t enough drama I had to go and Nice N’ Easy my hair 3 days before the wedding. Leaving me with very dark very reddish hair. Just like the bowl cut perm, everyone said it looked great. You are all a bunch of damn liars!   

Then in August ’09 I decided to perm my poker straight, shiny, mid-back length hair. Not only did it cost me an arm and a leg because they charge you more for more hair but it left me not with my life long desired cork screw curls but rather 2 little waves at the end of each strand. The Man saw his first vain hair related melt down that night complete with brush throwing. (I like to throw things). So now I sit googling a million and one pictures of different colors and styles finding a ton that I like, yet none I’m willing to risk. I have come to the conclusion that I will always have very long, very straight hair and only the color will change and even that will be minute changes, like highlites. 

This is what I want… 

 

 BANGS!!!! I tremble with fright over that thought. But it’s freakin cute! 

This is what I will get… 

BORING! Yet safe, very safe. 

Excuse me, I need to go have another anxiety attack.

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2 Responses

  1. Rachel, you were the first of the four very cute nieces that came into my life and I might add that all of you have turned into very pretty young ladies. Eventually your kids are going to say the same things about you and Paul. I can vagually (in my old mind) remember the dresses and hairdos. You and Jen were very cute.

    Love you all,

    Uncle Gary

  2. Thanks Uncle Gary!! Love You!!

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