A Real Haircut, Because I'm a Grown-Up

This is me just prior to my first professional haircut in at least four or five years.



I know. It looks super short already, but I generally like to keep my hair close to home, which is within one or two inches long, and I usually cut it myself with a set of clippers and some pinking shears from my sewing box.

Why do I do it? It's simple math really. My clippers cost $26 five years ago. Professional haircuts would have cost me $40 x 12 months x 5 years to equal $2400. That's a savings of $2374!

I decided, though, that if I'm going to be the closing keynote at BlogWest in a week, it might help relieve some of my nervousness if I had a real haircut, so I called a local salon (that's Salon Fresz in Regina, Saskatchewan, and ask for Jesa for kick ass short hair). I felt nervous like I was going on a first date or like this was the first time I was venturing out into polite society after an extended stint of feral forest living, but I needn't have worried. Jesa fixed me up so my hair looks like I mean it rather than that I might have, oh, I don't know, cut my own hair with a pair of dull pinking shears.

And voilà!



I feel all attractive and growed up and stuff.

Please Tell Me That Bloody Carrot Is the Hair Colour of Cool Maturity

Before I got married in 2001, I panicked about life changes and ended up dyeing, then perming, then bleaching, and then dyeing my hair again all within the span of two weeks. I did all of that myself at home with ten-dollar boxes of chemicals. I'm lucky that it didn't all fall out before the wedding.

Years before, I shaved my head when I feared that a relationship was ending.

It seems that I use my hair to deal outwardly with the inward grief and fear of life changes, so what can you expect that I've been up to in the lead up to my TEDxRegina talk tomorrow afternoon? Overprocessing my hair, of course!



I dyed it first three days ago. It was a light reddish brown. It brightened my colour a bit, nothing too drastic, which is what I wanted. It was a little on the orange side, though, and I'd missed a patch on the side, so, of course, there had to be a re-dye.

I decided that I wanted to deepen the colour bit and maybe tone the red the down, so I chose a medium brown colour for the second dye job. I know it's iffy to dye one's hair again so soon, especially with a different colour than the first dye, but I'm nothing if not confident in my abilities when it comes to screwing with my own hair.

I applied it this morning, certain I was going to come out with a deeper, slightly more mature colour. I was going to look smokin' hot at TEDx!



Um, yeah, no.

The new colour, while definitely deeper, lacks the sobering effect of maturity for which I was hoping, unless BLOODY CARROT is the hair colour of cool maturity these days.

Something tells me it's not.



Fiddlesticks.

Hello, TEDxRegina! You'll know me by my orange glow.

Dye and a Hair Cut, Two Bits

I gave myself a home dye job and a haircut today, and then I somehow lost the ability to take decent iPhone photos. I proved myself to be beyond cool on all fronts.



I am the worst sort of person, if you are the sort of person who judges people for cutting their own hair.

I know I am that sort of person. One of my favourite insults? That person looks like he/she cuts his/her own hair.

My hypocrisy is naked.



As a change, I left a little more on top than usual. Yes, that is a little more on top than usual.

Also, yes, I did it blind without my glasses, and, yes, I think I missed a patch of hair there on the side with the dye.



I think I look pretty cute, regardless.



On tomorrow's agenda? I'm buying another box of hair dye. Patchy dye jobs cannot be passed off as a justifiable style choice. Even if you feel cute.