Hairy

I got my hair cut the other day. And I was not pleased.
A few weeks ago I cut myself some longer bangs that I could sweep to the side. They were okay...but kinda weird so I wanted to get them fixed. I put it off until I found a split end. I NEVER get split ends. So I knew it was time. After waiting at one salon one evening for over an hour just to have the only girl working there tell me she wasn't going to have time to do my (or another guy who had also been waiting) hair...I went to a salon recommended to me.
I failed to realize it was recommended to me by a southern belle. And I am anything but a southern belle. I also failed to remember hair-do's in the past that lead to me hacking ALL of my hair off. What I got is one of them.
I came out of the salon with a flip and poof bangs. I figured when I got home and fixed it, it would all be okay. But the next morning after showering, I started realizing that everything was not okay. Along with some other sources of stress, that was not a good day for me. I had my first real taste of homesickness since moving. My mom and I have a knack for getting bad haircuts. But we always are there for each other and march one another to a different salon to get it FIXED. But mom wasn't there to march me to another salon...so I found myself sad and teary eyed and mourning over my hair more than I really should care.
Thankfully, over the past few days I have come to terms with my hair...and I have to say it has grown on me. I like it. And I'm relieved. Note to self though: beware of southern belle salons.