Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

After moving to the SAV, it took forever to find someone to cut Matt's hair.   Matt had looked for a good lady to cut his locks for years, and had some absolutely awful thank-god-someone-invented-hats haircuts as he searched for the best lady.  And then we found Mandie!  And she did such a great job!  And she loved dogs!  And we loved her!  And we didn't have to fear having Matt get his hair cut any more! (I can really have anyone cut my hair because I've basically had the same haircut since 1995 when I couldn't get enough of Friends.)

So then when our hairdresser moved a few months ago, we were super sad and stressed and wondering how we could go about finding someone good to address the mop atop Matt's head.

Then I decided that, shoot, I could totally cut Matt's hair!  Young House Love Sherry cuts John's hair!  Looks easy!  (BTW, just because Young House Love makes something seem easy it does not mean that that something is actually easy.  See, also: painting wood paneling.)  So one night a couple of months ago, after I watched 3 "how to cut hair" videos on YouTube, Matt sat in a desk chair in our kitchen while I snipped and evaluated and snipped some more.

And you know what?  It wasn't half bad!  Was it the greatest haircut he'd ever received?  No.  But it was light years away from being the worst.  Plus it was free and convenient and we figured I'd only get better at my new cheapskate hobby.  Right?

Wrong.

Here's what happened tonight, after Charlie was in bed, while Matt was at work, about the time that, armed with an eensie weensie bit of haircutting knowledge and a dangerous amount of confidence, I completely lost patience with my own mane, the one that was so long and scraggly that I couldn't even get it to look good in a ponytail anymore.

Uh oh.

Yep.  Totes grabbed my ponytail and chopped that bitch off.  And then I figured that after I let my hair down it would be all wild and cool and a little bit chunky-layered and people'd be all, "OMG, Mandy!  Who cuts your hair?!  It looks absolutely marvelous!  How ever can you afford such an amazing stylist!?"  And I'd be all, "Oh, this?  I did it one night with some scissors and my skillz.  How sweet that you like it."

Except that that little fantasy would never happen.

Here's why.

Shoot.

I looked like an extra from The Hunger Games.  Or like a polygamist who just escaped from Juniper Creek and is trying to assimilate in the real world.

And so then I had to spend a little time, um, evening things out.  Oh, and getting rid of the rat tail that I suddenly had.

I had a rat tail.  This was a new low.

Guess we'll be finding a new hairdresser after all.  Anyone know of one in Savannah who can cut a mean "Rachel"?