Home Haircuts Are Risky Affairs

I used to work in a hotel in town, and the guy who owned the salon there cut my hair for a staff discount. I liked him, because he insisted that I call him a barber, and he used to tell me stories like how he learned back in the 1970s that cutting hair while high on LSD was a bad idea. After I quit working at the hotel, he still kept giving me the discount, and I kept going in every month or so to catch up on the hotel gossip.

I should have been happy about our little agreement, because $20 is cheap for a woman's haircut, but it still bugged me to have to pay for such a thing. I will spend all kinds of money on stupid things like lattes and my latest addiction to peanut butter cookies, but spending any money at all to remove waste material from my head just irks me. Hair is like head poop.

hair trimmings 1

So, back in 2006, I started cutting my own hair. After a bad home haircut or several, I tired of walking around looking like someone who used pinking shears to cut her own hair, which is absolutely what I was doing, so I invested in a set of electric clippers, and I haven't looked back ever since.

fresh haircut 1

I must say, I do a not so entirely terrible job of it, and I really do love having very short hair, but there is one thing I have not quite mastered yet.

I am still clumsy with the scissors when I touch up the longer hair that the clippers leave around my ears.

fresh haircut 2

This afternoon, for instance, it turned out that the tough lock of hair I tried to saw through was not hair at all. No.

As it turned out, I CUT THROUGH MY OWN FUCKING EAR CARTILAGE WITH A PAIR OF KITCHEN SHEARS.

don't slice your ear open with scissors

Next time, I am going to ask the Palinode to help me out with that part.

Ouch.