Hair-tastrophy of 2010

I was 8 years old when it first happened. And then at the age of 10, I thought it couldn't be any worse, and maybe at the time, it wasn't...but looking back, I can't believe it.

I had a perm. I was 8. I had big ol' buck teeth and a perm. Not a normal hairstyle for a little Asian girl. How many Asians do you know with naturally curly hair? Not many, if any at all! But, what do you do when you don't have something? You go out and you find it. For me, it was the hair salon, run by a Vietnamese woman, in Falls Church, VA. My dad let me get my hair permed and for 2 hours as I sat in the big girl chair, I inhaled chemicals...that must have affected my brain because not two years later, I went to that same salon and got my hair cut.

But not just any cut. Not just a trim. I went Billy Cyrus and got my first true mullet. I'm sure I thought I looked like I was the sh!t. But when I flip through those old pictures, I can't help but stare in embarrassment. I am convinced I was not loved by my parents. I mean, who would let that happen to their child?! I was not of the age to make a decision like that...but it happened.

I've had previous hair issues. Most brought on as an adult, so I have noone to blame but myself. I have colored my own hair, with horrific results. I have then had to spend massive amounts of money to fix. And luckily, I had an amazing stylist in Tampa who was able to help me, and not judge me. But moving, well, it forces you to find a new everything.

New doctor. New dentist. New Target. New Hair Salon.

Easy right? I mean, you just ask around and go. When we moved here, I didn't know anyone, really...so I had nobody to ask. Everything seemed so far away. I just wanted a bang trim. I even brought a picture, of myself, with the very bangs I wanted. Just a trim. Nothing fancy.

So, I went to the local Hair Cuttery. The lady seemed nice enough. During the consult, I mentioned the desire for the bang trim and I pleaded, nicely, to not be given a mullet, or any form of it. She giggled and reassured me I was in good hands. No mullet, sweetie. I'll just trim it up and you'll look great. (In my best NJ accent.)

25 minutes later. I ended up with this:

I know, I'm smiling. And while you may not be able to see the mullet in its full glory, I promise you, it is there. Let's just say it was so bad, my husband, who only compliments me on everything, asked me to put a hair clip in.

The stylist cut so many bangs, that it basically starts halfway to the back of my head.

Lesson: You get what you pay for. I thought, how hard could it be to get my bangs trimmed at one of these places. Apparently, it's hard. Because now, even 2 months later, I'm still struggling with the bangs and won't be able to do anything about it until I go back home...where I'm hoping the Neville Spa will be able to help me out! I mean surely, I cannot show up at my 15-year-reunion with THIS hair.