shorn

Ri and I timed our buses so we got off at the same part of Michigan Avenue within a minute of one another. We ambled over to Tempo Cafe, had waffles and french toast, and caught up on the last few months, which have been so busy.

We headed over to the place I had a gift card for (you know, the one I got in August when the guy stopped me in the street and somehow got me to fork over money, which I later thought was a scam?) It wasn't a scam after all, and I figured I should try and use it before it expired (apparently the card said four months, but they didn't even check it when we got there).

When we got to the salon, I told Barbara (the in-her-fifties-looking woman at the counter) what I was having done and she said, "Oh that's great! I'm a cancer survivor, myself; I'll cut your hair." So right away I felt really good about what was going down.

Barbara seemed like a very no-nonsense/rip-the-Band-Aid-off kind of French woman, and she explained that we'd take off the hair in sections while it was dry so I could give the maximum amount while still keeping as much as possible. She showed me a photo in a magazine, and I was like Ok, do your thing lady.

In a matter of five minutes, the whole thing was done. Barbara the speed-stylist said it was probably 14 to 16 inches of hair* and that it would be enough for an entire wig because apparently I have great hair for this kind of thing. I must say that I do like my hair; whenever I take the trouble, it'll do what I command--straight, wavy or curly--and stay that way unless it's humid outside. And I like the unusual color (for an Indian girl, anyway), which my friend Jackie says is "Mexican-girl Brown." (Jackie is Mexican. Who am I to question an authority on the subject?)

It is quite a change, though. I told Barbara that I'm no-fuss when it comes to beauty and that I don't even know where my hairdryer is (probably rattling around my mom's linen closet). She said I could air-dry and go, put a little gel to bring out the curl and go, roller-brush with a dryer and go or do a bunch of other things. I liked the "and go" parts the best. She showed me how it would look with more volume, which she said I need on top to apparently balance the square-ish parts of my face. Barbara said the way she cut it, which sort of feels like a graduated bob (or not, I don't know technical terms here) with enough in the back to cover my neck, will make sure that it can be curly without being frizzy. Phew.

Ri and I were looking at each other in panic in the mirror because after Barbara blowed it out, my hair was WAY puffy. I mean really REALLY big. I wasn't sure what to think. We went next door to Sarah's Candies afterward for coffee and cookies (where I actually asked the lady at the counter if she thought my hair was puffy. She said no). I kept my hat on for awhile in the hopes that it'd cut the puff a little. Ri did a lot of parting and re-parting in different ways and even though she was really trying to convince me to cut some bangs and keep some of it at an angle over my tiny forehead, she decided this looked best.

Ri's signature move is getting her finger in the shot. But at least she does it artfully.

I realize this is the first photo of myself I've ever put on the blog. Whoa, big step. Then I realized a lot of you out there don't know what I normally look like. So here you go:

Sorry it's fuzzy. This was during my birthday party back in August. It was one of the few times this year that I let my hair down (toward the end of the evening when all the shot-taking was going on, and whoever was taking the photo was probably tipsy). And my hair has grown quite a bit in the last few months, too.

I'm sorry I've devoted so much space to describing something as ridiculous as hair. While it's a big change, I'm pretty happy. It's just hair; it'll grow back. And pretty much the only ones who have to look at it these days are H and the television. I think it's going to grow out to look a lot like the Best Haircut I've Ever Had (in Spain), which makes me really nostalgic and happy.

But this is kind of big. I'm NOT a risk-taker. I don't like gambling; I like a sure thing, and I HATE to lose and will beat myself up for every little screwup. But I value doing what I set out to do more than that, so I'm happy I went ahead and did this. I emailed the first picture on this post to a bunch of people who have only known me during the last 14 years or so when my hair has been long. One of my favorite responses was from pp:

"OMG? Who are you? What made you do this! I love it! So adventurous & brave. Did someone dare you? I know how you can't resist a dare."

She knows me so well. But that just goes to show that even though I'm pretty predictable, I can throw out a curveball every once in awhile. Thanks for all the support, guys!






*I just measured it and the longest part is TWENTY-ONE INCHES LONG. Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about myself.