The homework is (mostly) done, the children are all snug in their beds, and it is time for me to… write a blog.
Yes, here it is, once again, Thursday night and I am a leetle behind. Here is an actual Facebook message from Anna:
"I just asked Andy, 'What am I going to blog about this week?' And then I thought, 'What is LISA blogging about this week?'
This is where I frantically search my mind for brilliant insights, and, finding none, search my computer for old blog-ish entries I never used, just because Past Lisa was looking out for her pal, Frantically Searching For Old Blog-ish Entries At The Eleventh Hour Lisa.
And I actually found one! And it is relevant to my life right now, because it is about haircuts and I really, really need a haircut but am avoiding it at all costs (roughly $16).
Why? Read on, you lucky reader! :
I know that many of you, when going throughout your daily routines, have stopped mid-action and wondered allowed, “I wonder what it’s like to be Lisa Speckhard when she gets a haircut?” This is one of your top 6 burning questions, probably. Well, lucky for you, I have heard these plaintive cries, and today I am going to fill you in on the entire process! Nothing will be left out! Nothing necessarily cut, which is more than I can say for my haircuts (ha ha). But alas, I am getting ahead of myself.
First of all, as me, you only go to Fantastic Sam’s. You feel good about this choice because 1) you are the fourth cheapest person alive (beat out only by your father, your eldest sister, and Scrooge McDuck, in that order) and refuse to go to a so-called “salon” and 2) you feel like it’s a step above Great Clips, which is good because you are trying to cultivate some class.
Once you are sitting in the spinny chair with the backwards cape on, the first thing the stylist will say to you after examining your hair will be, “Are you a swimmer?” There are no exceptions to this rule. It is probably part of the script that pops up on their computer when you check in. As you are Lisa, you know that you, while liking to swim, are not a “swimmer” in the sense of ever in your life having been on a swim team or even going in a chlorinated pool more than a few times a summer (lakes are where it’s at.. amiright Minnesota, amiright??). So you deny being a “swimmer,” but for all the stylists raise their eyebrows skeptically at you, you sort of think you should just “come clean” about your swimmer identity.
“Well,” Generic Stylist will say, clearly letting me know with her tone that she believes I am in Olympic training for swimming, “you have an awful lot of mineral buildup in your hair.” Which makes it sound exciting, like I should start panning for gold up there or something, but actually disappointingly turns out to just mean that my hair has a layer of crap on it. One time, a stylist went slightly outside of the script and added “Your hair feels like Barbie hair! Feel it!” and brought my mom over to experience the freakish doll hair on her daughter, and then charged us $15 to de-Barbie my hair to top it off.
Next, the stylist will ask you “So, what do we want to do today?” implying with the "we" that you have some say in the matter. You will invariably reply nervously “I just need a trim.. I don’t want to take too much off, so just cut off the bad ends. So maybe half an inch.” This is because you have an extremely close-knit and emotional relationship with your hair, closer than even Shadow and Peter probably, wherein if more than an inch of it is cut off, you have a breakdown, and regret cutting your hair until your dying day (and/or or roughly six months, whichever comes first).
The rule here is to always say HALF the length of the actual amount you want chopped off. You may not be aware of this, but while you think stylists go to beauty school to learn how to style hair they are actually memorizing the Stylist Manifesto, which reads as follows:
1. Always cut twice the length of hair that the customer requests.
2. Always ask female customers if they have a boyfriend. If they reply “No,” panic and ask yourself what your plan was if they said “No,” and revert to an emphatic Girl Power speech.
3. Only keep extremely outdated hairstyle books around. We’re talking the 90s at their finest, which were not actually that fine.
While most stylists have no problem agreeing with points 2 and 3, many have a problem with point 1. “Why,” they question their Beauty School Czars, “would we cut twice as much as they want?” And of course the Beauty School Czar cackles at them and chucks them out of beauty school for their lack of unquestioning devotion, which is the real reason you have so many beauty school dropouts.
After the stylist cuts off at least twice, sometimes three times as much as you thought necessary, they may see your look of horror and hand you a counseling referral on the way out, in order to deal with this loss. It’s the least they can do.
And now I am going to put my alarm faaaaaaaaar away from my bed so there is a slight chance I will get up on time tomorrow.