Bangs

I cut my bangs. It was last night after about a week long struggle to not cut my bangs. I was... not... strong... enough...

Actually, I'm happy I did it. I feel more comfortable with my bangs back.

Me- "I missed you, bangs!"

Bangs- "We were way too long. Your hair is too fine and limp to not have us be short and spunky. We're all right with your decision to not go baby bangs. You look great and we look great on you!"

I have a long history of hair issues. My hair is red, although not as red as it once was. Damn it.
I have only had long Lucy on Dallas hair at one point in my life and that was when I was pregnant with Man Child. I was still getting perms at that point and my hair was long, curly, and HOT!
I had not had the long luxurious hair I always wanted until then. I spent my entire childhood being called a boy because I wanted a Dorothy Hamill, but my hair is not thick enough to manage the stack, therefore turning into a regular pixie. Boy cut. So many sales clerks called me a boy I thought I might kill them. There were so many days I went to the bus stop in tears after my mother tried to curl my hair with the curling iron, burning me instead. I had perpetual curling iron hickies throughout third grade.

I will admit I even had, at one point in the 80's, a bi-level. It wasn't a mullett, so just shut up. Soon after this I let my friend Dana cut a fool's tail in the back. It was not a good look.This was also the one short period in my life I was a cheerleader, so there are, to my dismay, photos to prove this. They are currently misplaced, so don't get any ideas of rummaging through my house while I'm in CO!!!

Finally, with the help of a wonderful hair stylist, I realized I didn't need to fry my hair with perms any longer, I just needed a good cut and to let go of the dream of long Lucy hair. Ok, I said. Go for it.

Short hair, you say... HMMMM.....
Well, I liked it very much. It actually sort of stacked, was cute, I had bangs, of course, and all was well.

Until the long hair visions started creeping up again. During the pregnancy with Princess, I thought maybe I could pull off long hair again. It go long, but not so luxurious. Soon, I was back to shortish hair. And I discovered baby bangs.
Oh, how I love the baby bangs. So short. So spunky. So Gwen Stefani. It was the look for me.

Fast forward to present. I got a great cut about 8 months before camp. Then I never went back to get it trimmed up to keep the cut. It started to grow! I got excited and drug right back to long hair fantasy. So, I let it keep growing- including my bangs, which were already longer than they usually were in this original cut. It just kept growing. Before I knew it, my bangs could be tucked behind my ear!

Glorious long hair! Bangs tucked in ear!! Hair all on length!!! Joy, joy- Lucy, eat your heart out.

Before camp, I did have concern. Should I get a cut? A trim? I needed to be able to just wake up and pull it back and go. Good friends told me, basically, to shut up and just leave it be. This is what I did.

Until last night. When I could take no more of the large exspanse of forhead exposed by the tucked in bangs. I could no longer pretend my limp hair had life by lifting and spraying. I would no longer stand for greasy looking strands hanging in my face.

I needed a hotline number. I needed direct access to a beauty salon.

What I had was Chef Boy reminding me of the many other times I had cut my own hair and lived to regret it.
Ass hole.

I held off for a week, but last night, after twisting, mangling at least 12 bobby pins, 1/2 a can of hair spray, and a few tears, I got in the shower, washed my hair, got out, brushed it, chose an amount of bang hair that seemed logical, snuck the scissors from the kitchen as Chef Boy shook his head over his book, and I created bangs.

After the first cut, I was nervous because these scissors aren't exactly salon quality, but after a blow dry, I was thrilled. I actually did not cut them too short and only a strand or two of long bang keeps hanging over into short bang area.

Chef Boy was smart enough to tell me they framed my beautiful face so nicely and quoting Pedro said, "I like your bangs."

All in all, I know I may have many of you shaking your heads in disgust. Stacey will likely recall the time I compained about getting tired while blow drying my long hair or when I stated she might tell my my baby bangs looked like ass. She never did this, but I'm not sure they are her favorite look, nonetheless.

I still long for the long, flowing, wavy hair that reaches my ass. I feel this would be good. In reality, it probably wouldn't be, but since when am I supposed to live in reality when it comes to dreams?

So, bangs and I are reunited. We like each other. We think we are cute together. It's the beginning of a beautiful reunion...