Janet asked, "Do you do your own highlights, color your hair or trim your hair? if so, what is the worst experience and what is the best hints you would give?"
The only thing I do to my hair is to take it to a good hairdresser. In Tucson, it was cool because I just traded with one of the women in the salon at the spa I worked at. I'd give her massage and she'd give me hair color/cuts and pedicures! The woman I go to here in Parker, CO is Ahna Buck at Cream of the Crop. I found her because she cuts my friend Rachel's hair and does such a good job! So that's my hint, find someone who's hair always looks great and see where they go!
My real hair color is really dark brown (now with a few grays). I get a reddish brown color and a cut with lots of looooong layers. I do the layers because I need a cut that looks like a style without actually doing anything. I'm hairstyling impaired so I'm really very Janis Joplin with my hair. I wash and let air dry. I don't even think I own a blow dryer (unless it's in the basement with my craft stuff!).
Worst hair experience:
So there I was...
Stationed in Wurzburg, Germany. I had this really crappy, mean squad sergeant named Luciano. We just called him Lucifer. He had just tried to get me busted over something stupid (long story I'm sure I'll elaborate on in the future). The powers that be shot him down and put me in a different squad so he couldn't bug me anymore (or maybe so I couldn't bug him?). He was, to say the least, PISSED about it. Napoleonic, much?
A week later, I was on the main post getting a haircut. The woman I normally asked for was sick and so I was given to another lady. She was this little Asian woman and as she was cutting my hair, I explained to her that I have this cowlick at the hairline of my bangs. I told her so she would know and cut them straight, it's been a big problem in the past if I don't mention it.
She's FUCKING up my bangs royally. After several attempts, she finally says, "You're very picky about your hair, aren't you Ruth?" I said, "Well.... isn't everyone?" I thought, how'd she know my first name? The client slips only use last names. Then I saw the picture and everything spun into place. The picture on her station was of her and her husband. Guess who?
Bollocks! I left there with Bjork bangs (shredded, crooked and china doll short). I refused to pay and I hope she didn't get paid for it. Bitch. Those two are perfect for each other.
Olga asked, "What one thing do you know to be true?"
When I was in 8th grade, I was very plain. T-shirt, jeans, long straight hair (I've kind of come full circle back on that!). When I got to high school, I hung out with the Mods and the Punk Rock kids and developed a style somewhere in between. My hair was short and wild, my clothes were baggy and strange. Here's a pic of me my senior year.
In Jr. High, there were rumors abound about what a prude I was and how uptight I was. I didn't think I was either but who knows. Then in High School when my look changed, the rumors changed. Suddenly I was a druggie and a slut. Now I know neither of those labels were true. The slut one always made me laugh since I wore such baggy clothes.
Anyway, I learned pretty early that people are going to talk about you either way. So the one thing I know for sure is true is to never give a Rat's Ass about what people say or think about you. The only people who's opinions about me mean anything to me are the people I truly care about. Strangers/acquaintances can go bugger off!
More next time, Ruth!