I am super seriously in need of a haircut. My hair is now entirely too long, especially now that it’s getting warm, and yet I’m not scheduled to go see my friend Lars (also my senior prom date, now my stylist, known him since second grade) until early May. Ooops.

This always happens to me. I wait too long, and then by the time I call, the earliest appointment is ages away. Which leaves me with two options. Suffer through with a messy ponytail or some other clip-induced hairstyle, looking ratty and unkempt, or breakdown and go get a cheap haircut to tide me over until Lars can work his magic. I have learned, though, that option two is NEVER good. Every single time I get my haircut on impulse, it’s a total disaster. Such as the time back in college when my hair was about this long, all one length, and I walked into a salon here on the spur of the moment, drawn in by their “WALK INS WELCOME!” sign. The woman who greeted me had just come back from the coffee shop, where she told me she’d bought a triple expresso. Which she slammed, right in front of me, before swivelling my chair to the mirror and saying, “So! What are we doing today?” I told her I wanted a trim, just a bit off the ends, nothing major. “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head with great vigor, “you need layers. Trust me.” And then she started cutting. And cutting. And cutting. By the time she was done, my hair was the shortest it had been in years, and totally layered, enough for a serious eighties flip-style if I had been so inclined. It was horrible.

You know a haircut is bad when you leave in tears, then spend the rest of the day actually tugging at your hair, as if that’s going to make it grow faster. (It didn’t.) Instead, I was stuck with this awful haircut for months, and the layers for months after that. They take FOREVER to grow out, in case you’re wondering. There are only about two pictures of me from this period, mostly because I avoided all documentation, but the ones that I do have only confirm that I was not wrong in saying that the style made me look twice my age and incredibly haggard. Oh, my God. Horrible.

So I am the first to admit that I am not an experimenter when it comes to my hair. I’ve never dyed it, other than a few home-done highlights, and I’ve pretty much had the same style—save for the above disaster—since high school. Maybe I should be a little wilder, but let’s face it, that’s just not me. So I’ll wait for Lars, and suffer through, because it’s also like me to learn from my mistakes, or at least try to. Bring on the ponytail!

have a good day, everyone!