Hair Horror Story

A lot of people know that I very rarely get my hair cut or colored in NYC. Because no one ever cuts it 'right' or gets the color right. Usually I go back to PA, ridiculous-yes (but with reason!)

So I got tired of the black, it was bound to happen. It always does. So I decided to try again to get it back to platinum blond in the city. FAIL. And I even went to a legit salon. Or so I thought. But I also thought it would be possible to go from black to platinum. FAIL.

I spent a good 4 hours Thursday getting the black out/the salon attempting to get it white. It was blondish-brassy yellow, not the blonde I like. At all. I wasn't even that upset about the color. BUT THEN THE GUY CUT MY HAIR. I was like NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!? (for some reason every salon likes to play with my hair and not ask before doing so!??!?!) As soon as he took the scissors to the top, I knew the fate of my hair was over. I saw my fohawk disappear and fall to the ground. Needless to say, I was pissed. I was growing that out! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

So. My hair is uber short now. Probably not uber short but it sure feels it cause I can't play with it as much as I could before. LAME.

And today we tried to get the color corrected. It turned out 'better.' But certainly not blonde enough for me. But my hair has been so processed at this point I cannot do anything for at least another week or two.

My options being as follows:
1. Acknowledge the truth that my hair will grow out. That's what hair does. And deal with the color that it is now. Try and rock it.
2. Wait a week or two, and get it dyed to my natural color.
3. GI Jane it. I really don't want to do this. Not now at least. I know one day I will do it, just to prove that I can pull it off, but I really am not prepared to do it this soon. But it is already too short for my liking.

Oh the dilemma.

Maybe I will just grow it all out, LONG, and go for dreadlocks. Or just grow it long.

Probably not.