February 23rd, 2018

It is apparent to even me, the queen of procrastination, that the day has finally come. I cannot put it off any longer.  Once again, I have to trim my bangs.  Doesn't that sound like a fine idea?  A person who has very little depth perception, who, without glasses, cannot even read the large numbers on the digital scale,  a person who has been known to burn herself at least once every single times she irons...yes let's give that person a pair of very sharp scissors and do something near the eyes.  

​I suppose I could make a hair appointment and go to my hairdresser, who is awesome by the way, but especially this time of year, her schedule is jam packed so I wouldn't get in for at least a week and what's more I'm too cheap to pay for such a simple thing. Trimming my bangs should not be a big deal. It just shouldn't be.

​I sit on the bathroom counter so I'm as close to the mirror as I possibly can be.  Turn on ALLLLLL the lights in the bathroom. Remove my glasses.  And lean so close to the mirror that my nose is practically touching it then begin, one little section at a time taking miniscule bits of hair off and checking to see how it looks, over and over and over until once again, I can blink without my eyelashes getting tangled with my hair.

​I've had some really bad hair cuts. Haven't we all.  But bangs are the worst,  If the bangs don't turn out right there is NO way to hide it until it grows out.  A bad haircut can be cut shorter.  If it's just one section that was attacked by a rambunctious 3 year old with scissors, you can change the part in your hair to hide the missing clump.  There are clip in bits and hair extensions that can hide bad work everywhere else.  Hats and scarves if all else fails. But bangs are right there in the front with no place to hide.

​As a child of course, I had that wonky bang cut by my mom that I suspect most everyone has experienced.  It's usually not horrific, just uneven.  A little higher on one side than the other maybe or a little shorter in the middle, but it's millimeters different most of the time.  And  kids don't notice or if they do notice they don't care.  Until years later when someone they want to impress sees the photo and then it's a disaster of epic proportion.  

​Many years ago, a hairdresser was trimming my hair while on the phone and having a furious disagreement with his significant other.  Oh dear.  During a particularly vociferous exchange, he chopped my bangs with great emphasis leaving me with a diagonal line, left hair line just out from the scalp to nearly my eyelashes at the right side.  Not Good.  It took a very long time for that one to grow out.  The worst was the really short part that tended to stick straight out defying gravity until it got long enough to hang down as hair should.

​I think that may have been when I started trimming my own bangs between cuts.  I may not do a perfect job.  I may be imperiling my eyesight or risking an interesting facial scar by doing things so near my face with poor vision and very sharp scissors but I will never EVER again have a bangs that looks as if they were trimmed by a drunken cat.

So clearly I have a mission today. Wish me luck.

​And then, have an awesome weekend!
​Hugs all 'round