I cleaned the house tonight and watched a movie - a nice lazy Sunday evening after a long week. I popped open a bottle of one of my favorite beers and settled into my computer chair when, in the darkened reflection of my monitor, I notice my buzz cut is getting a little out of hand length ways - I used to have a large, gelled up haircut the looked great but required extensive preparation. I brought it down to a 2 two guard and really liked it.
Anyway, I'm looking in the mirror a few minutes later holding my brand new neck trimmer in my hand. I'm a little nervous. The plastic guard I've removed from the box the trimmer came in seems flimsy. I dimly remember that hair stylists use a different guard for each size - not a handy-dandy all in one that slides in over the back and of my trimmer here. Brushing the thoughts away and attaching the small, plastic guard to the head of the trimmer, I'm ready to go. How hard can it be? I'm a grown-up now. At 22 I shouldn't be afraid to give myself a trim.
Let me tell you something folks. Something I found out this evening as I tried to cut my own hair.
People go to cosmetology school for a reason.
As I later figured out, I had incorrectly adjusted the guard, and of course, my first cut was right down the center of my head. I got about halfway back when I realized the guard was at a 0. I had a reverse mohawk.
I rubbed the gully on top of my head. It looked like the canyon Mustafa falls into and dies in The Lion King. I thought I saw a wildebeest stampeding down the middle.
But, I'm not one to give into despair, or admit failure. So for 45 grueling minutes I attacked my head with a neck trimmer with a shit-ass guard and determination.
After hopping in the shower and cleaning it up, I'm not impressed. The hair is almost all the way down to the scalp in some places, and in others? Not so much. I don't have any patches, at least, but I'm thinking I may have to get professional help. I look like....well, I don't know what I look like. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything quite so hideous. I could be a monster in a Greek myth.
Look out, Perseus, I'm kick your ass!
For some reason I've been in a melancholy mood this week. It could be that the house is empty - one of my roomies is in London for 3 weeks and the other is in Flordia for 6 days. I'm not sure why, but it seems, to quote a face book group I saw, that all my friends are getting married and I'm just getting drunk. They aren't actually getting married, but out all of a circle of about 30 guys, only myself and two others aren't attached. The last relationship I got out crashed and burned spectacularly, and the next girl I asked out, who I'd liked for about 8 years rejected me almost out of hand. I'd like to think I've gotten it together enough now that I think I can hold down a relationship but I'm not an easy person to get along with - I'm too sarcastic, very hairy, out of shape, needy, and I drink too much. But Hey - I do my own laundry, my closet is sorted by color and clothing item, I have a steady job, and I'm dynamite in the sack.
It's just that I've had a few one night stands and nights of play with some female friends, and I've enjoyed it, but I'm just ready for something beyond mindless sex.
Heh. Never thought I'd say that.
And of course, if I get involved, within 6 months I'll be wishing for mindless sex again.
Just can't win.