I hung my head in shame, swallowed my pride and had ten different excuses prepared when I went to my old hairdresser today. I didn't have to verbally confess that I had cheated on her, the mullet said it all. I was humiliated as she ran her fingers through my hair and asked me, "Did you go to a professional? Was it a salon you went to?" This led me to believe she may have thought I did this butchering all by myself with a Flowbee. She laughed with disbelief as he held sections of my hair with a comb. Then she spent an entire hour with an itty bitty razor taking out large chunks of hair.
There's not much you can do to fix a bad short haircut, but let me tell you, Ziba did a darn fine job. And I didn't look like an idiot when I walked out of the salon, that's always a good sign.
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We live and learn. I was trying to grow my hair out, but only the back seemed to be growing. I was mullet girl for a while too. Now I look like the Dutch Boy on the paint cans, but at least my mullet is gone! Now I hear that leg warmers are coming back! Maybe we should have kept our mullets...very retro!
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