My Hair Sucks (or I miss Jayme)

Once I got a mullet.

It was not, I assure you, something I did on purpose. Nor was it the 1980's. See, I have found that sometimes you will find a new stylist and he or she will be great for the first cut or two. So you will go back expecting more of the same magic and rainbows and unicorns. And instead, in the time between cuts, your stylist has been mysteriously replaced by some sort of deranged scissor-happy doppelganger and you wind up with something like this:

Keep in mind this is not as bad as it was at first. Since I didn't let anyone with a camera near me for awhile, this picture was taken a few weeks after the original cut. Also, by this point I had found Jayme. Beautiful, wonderful, fabulous Jayme. I wandered into Jayme's salon the night after receiving said mullet and asked the tall blonde girl standing at the counter with a mixture of hope and despair quivering in my voice, "Can you fix me?" She stared at me for a few minutes and replied with deep concern, "Who did this to you?"

Then she set about trying to make it look like I wasn't about to audition for a re-make of Xanadu. I still walked out of there with a mullet... but as she explained it would take awhile to make it look normal again. She brings the unicorns and rainbows every time, and after many months with Jayme who is quite possibly the most talented stylist in the universe I eventually wound up with this:

I was much happier.

Side story: I met Ryan shortly after I got the mullet. He remembers thinking "Wow she's really cute, but she has really bad hair." A smart man, he didn't tell me this until recently. It's funny now, but it definitely would not have been if I still had the mullet when he divulged this piece of information.

Then I moved to Eastern Europe and figured out that when the mullet departed with the end of the 80's it moved to Bulgaria. Seriously, guys. If there was a drinking game based on how many mullets you would see walking down the street, you'd be hammered after a few blocks.

Because my Bulgarian - to put it mildly - sucked, I didn't trust myself to go into a salon and request just a trim, please, so I decided to just not cut my hair for the better part of a year. As you can imagine this did not lead to silky and manageable tresses, so the first thing I did when I got home was try to find an affordable and quality stylist. These two things are not mutually exclusive, I know, because Jayme is both stellar and inexpensive. Plus she gives you wine and is great conversationalist/therapist. (And she tells me regularly I look like Reese Witherspoon which totally isn't true, but I love it anyway.)

I did not get wine when I got my hair cut the other day.

Nor did I get a good haircut. Okay, so it's not completely horrible, true. At least, there were no tears. And thankfully it's not a mullet. I would show you a picture except right now I am sporting a gargantuan zit right in the middle of my forehead. It's fabulous.

But it has lead me to believe that Jayme is one of a kind and if Ryan and I do wind up living in Ft. Lauderdale, I will be making trips up to Orlando regularly to get my great cut, good wine and fun conversation all for a very low bargain price.

And if we move somewhere else I will simply call Jayme and invite her to move in with us.