buyers remorse...?

Except it's not something I bought so I can't take it back...

I cut my hair off today. Well, not me, but my wonderful hairdresser who I trust completely.

Except now? I have no hair.

I have a love/hate relationship with getting my hair cut. I always believe what the stylist tells me, I always believe that there is a wonderful new me walking out the door of the salon. I swish my locks and feel glamorous. Look at me world with my shiny styled hair!

It usually lasts until the first time I try to do anything with my hair and I spend the next several months cursing the stylist and considering making a voodoo doll of them to jab pins into.

Last year I got the name of a hairdresser from an acquaintance and last January I let her layer my hair. I have had my hair layered many many times before and let's just say it always ends in tears. But I had seen a photo of myself with my long, slightly frizzy mane (taken on a bad day while I was in my son's class trying to do papier-mache with him - bad scene) and I thought things could only get better. And hello - I loved the layers. I loved the haircut. Finally - good hair! I even bought Product to go in it. Product I tell you (you'd have to be married to Marc to get the irony of his Product supply compared to mine).

Anyhow, 3 haircuts and a little over a year later and we arrive at today. Now, things you might need to know beforehand:

1) I made the appointment on Monday when I was in a snit and decided I was going to get my haircut and look good dammit (because those of you who know Marc will know how he HATES it when I do anything to look good. He NEVER wants me to get my hair cut. Never compliments me when I make an effort etc etc etc). (Um that last bit? LIES. All LIES. He's be happy if I went to get my hair done on a monthly/weekly/daily basis.)

2) On Tuesday I said to Marc "On Saturday when I tell you that I am going to see Sylvie and have her cut my hair short you have to say "Don't do it!! Don't cut it short!!"

3) I don't seem to have been able to ditch my February slump (hello? windchill in the negative 20s hasn't helped) and was feeling, oh, I don't know, FED UP with everything.

4) Friday afternoon I came down with a head cold and went to bed at 6 pm. This morning I got up, had a coffee, cleaned the house and went back to bed for another two (or three?) hours. I haven't slept that much since before I had children. I decided to cancel my hair appointment but Marc, he who loves to get his hair cut, protested so vehemently that I figured I really needed a trim. Even though I was obviously not sane.

5) My final words to Marc when I left the house were "What should I do with my hair?" to which he replied with a shrug of his shoulders and an "I don't know. Whatever you want." Traitor (and yes, I am looking for a scapegoat in case I need one in the morning. Is it that obvious?)

So I go to the salon. And emerge an hour and a half later with a lot less hair. As in my hair that used to come down to my shoulder blades no longer even touches my shoulders.

Today I LOVE it. It's cute. It's sassy. We went to a friend's for dinner and she couldn't get over how cute it is.

But in the back of my head I am terrified of washing it and trying to do anything with it myself. I feel kinda naked. Every time I walked past a mirror at my friend's I did a double take.

Isn't it great the things we obsess about at 2:00 am when we can't sleep because we slept enough for two days the night before?