Zen And The Art Of Hair Maintenance

There's no part of visiting the hairdresser that I enjoy.

Not the forcibly chipper small talk, the dime-store superhero cape or having to stare at myself in the mirror under lights that make me look like an older Willie Nelson. And definitely not paying hundreds of dollars just to walk out with a haircut that feels like it belongs on someone else's head.

Which is why I haven't cut my hair in two years. TWO. YEARS. Do you know how long hair grows when you don't cut it for 730 days? Fricken long. In hair terms, that's slightly longer than Hella and just a tad shorter than Way.

Despite what you read in fairytales, ridiculously long hair is neither luxurious nor handy for tossing out the window to abseiling princes. It is a complete pain in the ass, especially when you have sensory issues. But no matter how many Big Foot-sized clumps of hair
I pulled from the drain, somehow I just couldn't bring myself to step inside a salon.

So last week I grabbed a pair of scissors and did it myself.

It was... THE MOST FUN EVER!

I may have zero hours of training and even less skill, but I also have absolutely nothing to lose. I live in the country and homeschool my kids. Who the hell is going to see me if I get it wrong? Nobody, that's who! I was filled with the confidence of the insane.

Using a precision technique I like to call the Hack and Attack, I chopped over 12 inches off my hair. That's like a foot of hair! Or... something... ew...

The first cut is the funnest

Them Kardashians is hairy