My hair is fluffy.
(After the weightiness of cardiac drama and car drama, let’s turn to something truly frivolous and inconsequential: what to do with my hair?)
When it was first growing in, it was cute: I used some product to make it spikey-sticky-uppy. (At least, I think it was cute. People told me it was cute.)
Now, at about an inch and a half, it is starting to look, well, helmet-ish. If I use product, I can get a good mohawk, or if I spike it all over I start to look too electrified for my taste. And default = helmet.
Not my favorite looks. Obviously. However, the mohawk does have some appeal, I admit.
If I let it keep growing with out some trimming or shaping maintenance, I will end up with a mullet. Even worse than the helmet look.
Growing in my hair, while overall preferable to being bald (though I do miss the no-muss-no-fuss of baldness), seems like it will require some maintenance. Honestly, I do miss the baldness. I think I wore it as a badge of honor that I was a chemo patient, and, actually, a kick-ass chemo patient. Strangers were also really nice to me. I’ve never had so many doors opened and held for me in my life. I wish I’d taken more bald pictures too. There are strikingly few. (Friends, if you have one, send it to me please.)
I’ve never bonded with a hairdresser. One of my girlfriends has been going to the same person since she was five. My mom had her favorite guy for over twenty years. I ricochet based on where I have coupons or gift certificates. I did learn the hard way that the super cheap chain places equals three months of hair pity, so I stick to the fancy salons. Any recommendations on where to go for a feminine haircut with super-short hair? Is there such thing as a post-chemo specialist in the beauty industry? Do I have to pay the same fifty-plus bucks I would pay when I only got it cut one to three times per year?
And to be clear, I am so happy, grateful, and blessed that today’s question of the day is: Hmmmm, and what about my hair?
I’m off to radiation number twenty-three today!