Sticking to Your Roots

The last time I had my hair did was on March 12th. I just checked because I couldn’t totally and completely remember and I am one of those annoying clients who texts their hairdresser instead of calling them, like is today our day for complete transformation or what? Sooooo when Milsy Mills gave the go ahead for people to get to grooming themselves and their pets, I received a red hot text from my hairdresser with an appointment for May 14th. And would you look at that folks, just a few months out , could be worse, not too shabby! Sure if you look at the attached picture, I will disappoint my legions of fans in the fact that I am not a true blonde (gasp), but as the wonderful and beautiful Dolly Parton once said, “I’m not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes, because I know I’m not dumb… and I also known that I’m not blonde.” So there you have it, yes I give off a little bit of the street hooker vibe these days with the roots really making themselves known, but hey I’m still shaving my legs and I’m sticking to it. I don’t care if someone says I have to wear a mask and a snorkel while shaving my legs in my own shower, I am keeping that piece of dignity while I can. I have given up jeans for the most part, concealer, mascara, sometimes contact lenses, shoes that have heals, jackets that have arms, people that have ignorance, I kid I kid, but really, it is nice some days to just wake up, drink from a coffee cup and say bitch this is me, with the chipped black nail polish, and the stretched out leggings. Take it or leave it right? At the same time, I am equally as pysched to see my Jenny magician make me look more like Alexis on Schitts Creek and less like Darlene on Ozarks. She really can transform anyone.

Which brings me to my next point. My husband let me cut his hair last week. This really was a test for our marriage. I didn’t know if I could pass it. He is so particular in all things, and I am so dysfunctional in most things, that I’m not sure how we are still together. I am just not a detail person. I am big picture, what is the end game , what is the goal here, what targets do we need to hit along the way to get there, how do we keep as many alive and with their sanity as we can. My husband handed me his clippers with such trepidation, you would have thought we were playing spin the bottle with serial killers. He looked terrified. So I did what any good spouse does, I poured a good goblet of wine , I set it on our fire pit just so, camped his ass in my plastic Reny’s chair and proclaimed “Don’t worry, I was in 4-H and have definitely done this with sheep.” He told me that made him feel worse and took a sip of my wine and whimpered a little bit. I fired that sucker up and it is the most in control and empowered I have felt in weeks. I love that sound, it is like the world waking up. I really started going at the sides of his head like Bruce Willis had just told me that the president was asking if I wanted to save the world (or cut hair) and was I really going to say no. I’m game Bruce Willis, I’m game Trumpy Frumpy. I’m here to save your asses. I am proud to say and you can request the picture if you want too, that I did a really decent job, despite my type G personality tendencies. I didn’t cut anybody, no bald spots, mild yelling and light swearing only. You guys I think we can do this. I think we can slowly crawl back out of our caves and into the light. We might look busted right now, but in time, our people will get us righted again. I am keeping the faith, that I will be reunited with my dental hygienist and her and I will fight over the x-ray machine, my massage man RJ , I hope he’s coming back to me, our pediatric dentist in Brunswick, please someone give Payson a once over. Watch out world, because I’m going to start using the gas in my car pretty soon, and I’ve got my clippers in tow!