Thursday, November 25, 2010

Hairy Tales (part 1)

Its been a hectic hectic week. I even did not have time to write my assignments for my writing class for TWO WHOLE WEEKS. I am a delinquent. So sorry to my instructor.

However, I finally have time to write and blog.. so here I am. (submitted those assignments last night- FINALLY!)

I really have a lot to blog about and let me start on HAIR. Most people are emotionally attached to their hair (men and women alike)- just look at shampoo and hair regrower ad. As they say, it is our crowning glory.

My hair has been long for 3 years. It was straight, black and reached the middle of my back. Two days ago, I had 6 inches chopped off. (this equals 1 year of hair growth- 1/2 inch per month).. 6 INCHES!!

You know the feeling on going on a blind date? The one your best friend set you up with and said "He's a nice guy.. give him a try".. that was how I felt when I entered the upscale salon in a posh mall uptown. I had mixed emotions. I was excited and ready for a change but part of me wanted to go home.
With one foot in front of the other, I entered and was met by a smiling gay receptionist.

I told him I wanted a new haircut- not too short but short enough to be a noticeable change. He ushered me into a seat. I noticed a garment bag hanging by the side of the chair- it contained a robe. The kind you see in hotel rooms. The asked me to put it on.

"Ice tea Ms Imelda? We also have coffee and juice" the thin lady with an apron/uniform asked, her hair a perfect multicolored hue of blonde/brown. I opted for the ice tea- it was, after all- FREE.

The senior stylist (also gay) finally arrived to "assess" my hair. I quietly told him I wanted a hot oil treatment with color and a cut. The hot oil treatment is different from a full color treatment- its gentler on your hair.

A few minutes later, they were finishing applying the "dye". They started putting the stuff on my scalp and I could feel a burning sensation. Whenever they applied it, my scalp started burning up.

"uggh... it stings..." I said meekly. I was afraid they would tell me I was ignorant and it was all part of the beauty process.
"Maybe you scrubbed too hard when you shampooed this morning...." but his face had a look of concern. (this was not good)

"Mel..." he said, feeling personal enough to give me nickname. "could we go over to the shampoo area?" I kept asking him if this is what I asked for.. a cellophane treatment (the hot oil) and not a full on dye.

"I opted to wash out the darker shades of brown from your hair Mel..." He said flipping his hands in the air. So I did a dye job plus we will do the hot oil later after the cut. I was pissed. The assistant kept washing my hair in a mix of hot and cold water. My head still stung.

"Are you sure my hair won't fall off? because it feels like it will....!" I was growing nervous by the minute..

-- to be continued--

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