Taking the 'care' in carer too far...a story of the best blond joke so far

Sometimes I'm impulsive. I admit it. I'm also one of these people that can become obsessive over something and the idea sits and festers in my mind until I do something about it. In this case - it's my hair. 


This time I really outdid myself in the blond stakes. I often poke fun at myself at the silly things I do but this one takes the cake. I oughta win 'Blond of the Year.'


It's no secret on my blog since I have had my banding operation my hair has been the bane of my life. Right? I like medium length hair. Long just doesn't suit me but I wasn't ready to go super short either for the long term... So while somewhere in the back of my brain I have been experimenting with the thought of just 'cutting the lot off' and starting again, I didn't quite expect it to have it taken out of my hands in the most bizarre way. And if I ever doubted I have trouble saying NO to people sometimes, then this is the situation.


So I will set the scene. We have a house, an elderly ex-hairdresser and me. I was on the job yesterday, visiting for a few hours at one of my clients home. This elderly lady loves my hair. We talk hair, we talk about her old job as a 'at home' hairdresser and she always comments on my curls and the colour. So yesterday, she notices I am wearing my mop back in a pony tail. I tell her I have it this way because it's been driving me nuts - it doesn't want to do as its told and I am due for a cut. Well, she offered to cut it for me. 


Um. Thanks, but no. You're 94 years old with failing eyesight but thanks for the offer. But it seems I'm not the only obsessive person in the world. She kept at me for almost 2 hours. Just offering every now and again with me deflecting in the most polite way. 


She got to me in the end. I thought, okay, how much harm could she do? I'm planning on having a really good trim and if she takes a centimeter off the bottom who would know?  I could hide that little amount and the hairdresser would be none the wiser.


She's happy as a clam. She totters around the laundry, plopping me on a seat with cushions before dragging out a moth eaten trolley full of hair rollers, scissors, and various flotsum associated with serious hair duties and then asks me to brush my hair. I feel her standing behind me assessing things and then she starts muttering... "you need a blunt cut. This is why your hair doesn't look thick. Those silly hairdressers have cut so many layers in your hair no wonder it looks baby fine."


Next thing I know she grabs my hair at the back and.... lop! I hear the scissors snip and HOLY SHIT! Shes taken a great wad off. I almost die. I can't see how much she's cut off but suddenly I can feel air on the back of my neck. I shrink down in horror as she proceeds to snip away and then she tells me to look in the mirror. I get up too scared to look but I do. I now have ... well, the blunt cut from hell - only with my curly hair it really doesn't do it justice lol. She must have seen the look on my face (she's sharp this one.. old but sharp) and asks if its what I wanted. I fumble a bit and say its shorter than I wanted but ah, thanks. She goes: well, you asked for 2 inches off, dear. Oh I hope I haven't ruined it? I gulp in my mind: 2 inches? When did I ask for 2 inches? I swear I almost collapsed in horror. 


Anyway, long story short I managed to make it through the rest of my shift and scuttled straight off to my hairdresser where I had her rush me through to try and fix things. She was almost in tears of laughter as I confessed to how my hair had become a very, short jagged mess. She fixed it up for me and below is the result. Its REALLY short - sigh. At least now on the positive side I have very healthy hair and I can start again with the growing process. And thank heavens for that. Hair does grow. In a month I will look more like the me I am used to. We live and learn. Or at least I have. No more old ladies come near me with scissors. I must have been mental!

See you again soon xxx