So along with being rather light in the hair department at the moment, I’m also growing a second head on my forehead. That’s the name Master has given the enormous zit growing on my forehead – ‘the second head’. He even made the sign to avert the devil when I approached him on Sunday morning, being that the second head had doubled in size overnight…I’m 32 years old for Christ’s sake! Enough with the zits, god, k?
I’m plaguing, growing a second head and still mourning the loss of my hair…anyone want to make a fork joke to cheer me up?
But while I am still tempted to burn a scarlet “F” in Master’s forehead for failure to haircut, I’m kind of coming to terms with it. I mean, it’s not like I’m bald or have the kind of hair cut a two-year-old gives their Barbie, it’s just that I used to have lots of hair (i.e. down to my waist) and now I have considerably less (i.e. at my shoulder-blades). I had imagined a ‘trim’ and got a ‘hack job’ so that was enough of a shock to me that I would cry for several hours about it.
**pauses for the choruses of, “But you’re a slave, and you’re his property therefore he can do whatever he wants to you and you have to love it because you’re a slave and he is your owner and you should be happy that you were given the chance to serve him!!!” **
I think what disturbed me the most about it, was that Master didn’t *mean* to do it and he didn’t *not mean* to do it – he just totally had a zero care factor on the whole thing. I would feel better about it if it was an honest mistake like his hand slipped or something. I imagine I would also feel better about it if he was being a hard-ass dom and cut my hair that way because that was what he wanted or it was punishment or something. As it was though, he just didn’t care one way or another, he just barely glanced at my hair before snipping and thrusting the offending 8 inches in my hand and said, “There you go” as though he had cut a loose thread off a shirt or something.
But, you know, it wasn’t a loose thread, it was MY HAIR!!!!!
I hated his cavalier attitude and while it enraged me for about ten seconds after it happened, I was mostly just really sad…sad that he didn’t care and sad that he didn’t have the patience to do it properly for me.
Now I’ll admit I could of paid the $20 and gone to Just Cuts and had my hair trimmed like I usually do. But seriously, cutting my hair is not brain surgery and it takes 5 mins. I have no style. It’s just comb it down, cut straight across the bottom and wham-bham-thank-you-ma’am you’re done. I’ve even had my ex and my brother-in-law cut my hair several times and I’ve had the same result as going to the hairdresser and paying $80 for the privilege.
For some reason, going to the hairdresser is kind of like going to the dentist for me. I put it off and put it off and then finally go when I can’t wait any longer. I guess I fear that they’re going to make some comments about split ends or lack of conditioning or something. Just like at the dentist when they ask you if you’ve been flossing regularly and you say yes, even though you flossed for the first time in 3 months the night before (just because you were going to the dentist…) I even hate having to sit in that stupid seat and make polite conversation.
So in summary, yeah, it was my own stupid fault for being a frugal wuss and putting the scissors in Master’s hands, but I dunno…I just expected something more.