Lighten the mood




Well after my very full on rant last time I thought it time to lighten the mood.



One day Shiv went back to Bristol to see her friends, whilst there she thought to her self........ I know what, today I'll get me hair cut - a normal enough thing to decide to do I think you would agree? This decision came not too long after a rather enjoyable lunch with some friends fuelled by a generous helping of vino etc.

So off Shivers goes to the hair dresser. She sits there, has a glass of wine in the swanky reception and then goes and talks with her stylists. I go through the colouring I want done, we agree on three blonds and a brown - all perfectly standard. Colourist goes and the stylist turns up. Hello I toot, we discuss my hair and I am VERY clear that what I would like is a simple trim, I like my hair the way it is!! She agrees to this and fucks off.

All is going completely to plan.

I have the dye put on my hair, the usual burning sensation ensues, eyes going blurry - I like it.
I get given another glass of wine the dye sits there stripping my hair of all natural colour and then it happens........................ Some dappy, dappy person (a work experience bod no doubt) gives me a hair magazine!!!! Surely it is day one teaching in "beauty school" that you DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES give a fucked person a hair magazine mid hair job?

Wouldn't you know it, Shiv finds a picture of the perfect haircut. How could I not have known all my life, that this was the haircut for me??? I mean seriously I have been walking around my whole life with the incorrect haircut. Well something MUST be done about this oversight immediately.

So I sit there dreaming of how perfect my life will be once I have this magical haircut. I can hardly breath I am so excited - (of course in hindsight that could have be for any number of reasons: the bleach fumes, the gurning........) and then I see the stylist coming over - this is it, this is when the my life begins. I show her the picture of the stunning model with MY magical hair.

She messes with my hair for a bit and then agrees. Here we go, it's happening, it's really really happening!!!! The pile of hair around my chair is growing, the stylist is flaying around making very encouraging noises. I feel like I'm floating and on fire with greatness of it all.

Then come the words I have been waiting for all my life: "that's it, we're done, you look stunning"

I look at my self and can not believe how fabulous the new me is. Never have I been so right. I happily hand over my £80.00 cheap at twice the price. Christ, a magical hair cut is priceless!!

As the day goes on people can't take their eyes off me, heads are turning and I'm feeling great. I go home, faff around with my new "do". I start to wonder about this magical hair of mine, is it perhaps a bit odd? NO don't be silly!......Magical great it is!!

So off I go, have a great night, fall into bed and when I wake up in the morning, with a completely clear head I realise just how magical my hair is!! I rush to the bathroom, look at my self in horror, only to find that I actually look like THIS!!!!!

Shit, Fuck, Bollocks!! - Shiting, Oh my God, Fucking, Shitting, Bollocks! I look like fucking Pat Sharp.

Excuse the excessive expletives but my God, what am I to do??.......Gel? no - worse, Wax? - no worse, ah moose that'll tame my angry mullet - no much worse. I'll just pin it up - no you wont girlie - mullet is far too short for pinning!!!

This is so unfair I consider ways in which to kill the stylist (OH, I'm sorry, did I say stylist??.....I meant SADIST!!!) and then I realise that this is all my fault. Whilst I didn't actually use the word mullet, it is without doubt what I asked for.
Aforementioned fantastical boyfriend and I had only been seeing each other for about two weeks and what do I return with? A freeking mullet.

6 months on and I'm Currently sporting a headband that makes me look like I'm in some half hearted 50's soap :( lesson learned? LOL don't be so silly......This is after all the girl who dyed her waist length blond hair dark plum at the age of 13 and spent the following two years wondering the corridors of the convent school looking like an anaemic Goth.

Well i think you would agree that, that is quite enough from me!! What will it be next time? Depressed angry rantings, or stories that are completely inconsequential and almost impossible to read as the tense and person flit? :) Only time will tell.....

Comments

Andy said…
Now now, come on, it really wasn't/isn't that bad, and you must admit, it came out just as you wanted... fucked at the time or not, you wanted it, it was magical remember ;)
Also, think of all the crazy methods of taming the "mullet" (pronounce like the french version of "fillet", or like you could be a cameo in Keeping Up Appearances) you have come up with since you had it done, you could be a master hair stylist with all the self training you've had. There was the "fuck it just straighten in" style, the "just how many pins can I stab into my head to control this hairdo" style, and then there's the much favoured "just a few pins and a pinger" style, my favourite I must admit, aside from the just woken up in the morning to the sounds of "awimbawe awimbawe" and possible lion roaring, but that could be just you grumpy in the AM ;)

Thanks for the amusing read, kept me entertained for a while :D
5:09 PM
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