It’s frivolous. Extravagant. But god-fucking-dammit, I really needed this.

I’m a vain person. I have no qualms about saying this. I want a small waist and flat abs. I want clear skin and nice hair. I love nice clothes and big earrings.

Pin on Film Characters & Quotes
Al Pacino, The Devil’s Advocate

The point of all this is to say that when I do not like how I look–never mind if other people tell me I look nice–I feel like shit. I feel dejected and rundown and unkempt.

The worst is when I don’t like my hair. Granted, I’m very lazy about my hair. I don’t like using product, and I don’t like fixing it up. I don’t know how to use a hair dryer or a curling iron. I want to wash my hair and leave the house and look good. It’s a matter of convenience and confidence and utter laziness.

This is why I’m willing to spend on a good haircut.

My last haircut was back in January. (Or was it in February?) It was a pixie. By July it was an unkempt bob, and I hated it.

I was supposed to go to Roberto for a haircut in early August, but new community quarantine rules were implemented, and we had to cancel. I was so upset.

You know how people get so fixated on something that seems petty or frivolous, and when they don’t get it, it feels like a disaster? That was me, when we had to cancel my appointment. I started sulking, and one night I actually burst into tears. So much of the world was already in disarray, and here was one thing I could finally get fixed. But no, I couldn’t get that either.

Finally, in late August, I got my cut and color, and I felt like a whole new person.

Absolutely yes, this is vanity. Sure, I could just let my hair grow out. Or I could go to another salon, closer to home, and probably cheaper too.

But this was also about clinging to old routines and habits, and refusing to let this shitstorm of a year win over my vanity and self-esteem. This was saying, “Screw you 2020, the world may be falling to pieces but I refuse to look like crap while that happens.” This was, I guess, an insistence that there are still a few things I can control.

I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to Roberto for a life-changing haircut, and to Dana for an orgasmic head massage. I don’t know what my hair will look like by the end of the year. I don’t know when we can get hair treatments and foot spas without the salon staff needing full PPEs.

But right now my hair looks amazing, and with a little lipstick, I can do anything.

Take that, 2020.

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