I need new hair.

February 19, 2009 at 7:50 pm 2 comments

I need absolutely must have a new hair cut/color. Seriously, guys. This is bad. I have what we’ll call a “curse” with my hair. Here’s a quick run-down:

  • I first dyed my hair when I was a teenager: I went to a stylist and we tried, repeatedly, to dye it jet black. Permanent. On blonde hair. It washed out. Permanent black dye washed out. So any color other than blonde is out.
  • I found a great stylist! She gave me an adorable cut. I wanted to go back to her. She moved to Texas.
  • I found another stylist! He moved to Atlanta.
  • I go to several expensive salons, and I spend several minutes explaining, in detail, what I want, and the end result? They do what they want.
  • My last attempt at styling: I bleach out my hair on my own, it comes out all splotchy and insane (I called it Zebra Head)–I later realize it did this because, apparently having a major surgery/body change can make your hair freak out. It did. So I went to a stylist and she fixed it! Hooray! The bad part? That was in California when I was on vacation. Mmhm.

So, here we are. I haven’t had my hair done since December 2007. That is sad. For a while I was all Hey I’m gonna grow it out and it will be awesome. But, uh, it’s so long it’s annoying. And the roots, they are not pretty. Exibit A:


See those roots? They’re beyond “roots”. They’re full-blown mud-blonde shrubs at this point. Something needs to happen. I’ve been told to find someone with cute hair and ask them where they got it done. And here’s what happens:

Me: I love your hair! Where’d you get it done?

Them, with their cute hair being all better than me: Oh, I did it myself. (OR: My friend did it.)


Really, though, with my general aura of deflated-balloonery, I should at least have good hair. But finding someone around here who won’t just Do What They Want Anyway or give me a fashion mullet is a difficult task. Gross.


Entry filed under: bitchery. Tags: .

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2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. girlslashwoman  |  February 20, 2009 at 3:05 am

    Ughh eternally trying to find a good hairstylist: story of my LIFE.
    And it’s been 4 years. Yeah, four years since my stylist moved and I’ve been relying on anyone who will have me.
    Your best bet is to hit up a local trendy store and ask the girls where they get their hair done. Find the first guy that they name, call him. If he sounds gay, get an appointment. I’m serious. Gay men can’t screw up hair. They just can’t. It is scientifically impossible. I’m saying this because I know. Ever since my gay hairdresser left, I feel like I’ve been carrying around a big kick me sign.
    The first girl after him was just boring, I’d tell her red, she’d give me maroon. The second one convinced me that bright yellow streaks were in and I got home and realized that the only reason she “liked” them was because she tried for blonde and fucked it up. The third one was good but she was inconsistent and every time I went to her, I came out with something totally different so I stopped going. The fourth one was one of my friends… and then we stopped being friends. The fifth one fixed my roots and made me blonde again but thenmy hair fell out (I freaked out a bit). So I’m back to number four except today I bought black dye and I’m going to do it myself (scary thought, huh?). I have faith (… ok I don’t but I can’t go through trying to find another stylist, it’s so stressful)

    • 2. Griffin H. Bat  |  February 22, 2009 at 2:26 am

      girlslashwoman: this made me l-o-l out loud. It’s SO TRUE; I’ve always heard that no matter what, the best hair you will ever get is from a gay guy. I think girls are just more head-strong and like to think “their way” will look better on you…which is annoying. The search continues. Good luck with doing it on your own—I’m sure it’ll turn out lovely, I’d give *anything* if my hair would cooperate with me without assistance. I KNOW there is a great stylist out there somewhere for me, in a dark corner somewhere. I need to lure them out with the promise of pastries.


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Griffin H. Bat was very, very fat. She had WLS in 2007 and has gone from 314 pounds to 120ish, and often wonders where her mind went along with all that gooey adipose matter. Even with new guts, she still thinks about cupcakes and their confectionary goodness. She feels like a bear that has lost its stuffing, but she won't hesitate to tell you how lovely you are.

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