My life is hard.

Soooo.... I think I have a fear of getting a haircut.

This might explain why I've cut my own hair three times in the last month. I impressed myself, I'll admit, with my abilities to get a pretty good cut out of the sideburns-trimmer on my electric razor. I also managed to trim the back with the razor and a big mirror. (Thankfully Nicole hadn't hung it up on the wall yet, so I was able to stand in front of my bathroom mirror and try to angle the wall mirror so that I could see the back of my head. It was kind of tricky to trim the back with one hand holding a mirror and watching the other move in reverse, but I made it work. I MADE IT WORK.) I told myself that I was really just doing that because I didn't want to pay a lot of money for a haircut. But I don't think that's the case.

Like everything else, I've got issues. About my hair.

I've always hated my hair. I remember back in middle school, I'd deliberately miss the bus so that I could stay home from school. My grandmother would end up driving me to school anyway, and I remember sitting in the parking lot, crying and begging her to let me stay home. Why? "MY HAIR IS UGLY," I'd wail. I swear. I was a sensitive child.

But honestly, this is what I had to work with:
This is me in seventh grade when I turned twelve. That's pretty much what I looked like until I turned nineteen.

Well, I will admit that I've come a long way from the butt-crack part (and the Green Day t-shirts), but my hair is just as much of a mess now as it was back then. And after years of shitty haircuts, I think I've gotten to the point where I really start to freak out when I realize that ENOUGH is ENOUGH and I HAVE to get my hair cut. It's like going to the dentist for me.

And it's hard, y'all, seriously. Do I go to the Hair Cuttery and pay thirteen dollars for something that will make me hate myself, or do I go to some salon that got its name from a physics textbook and pay thirty dollars for something that will make me hate myself slightly less than if I had the Hair Cuttery cut? Are two or three happiness points worth fifteen dollars? Are they worth the energy of making an appointment for a haircut from a salon? It seems silly for me to set aside a specific time for someone to ruin my hair and life for a few weeks.

So this is what I need (and feel free, dear reader, to volunteer your time to help me with this):

1. Someone to find a good place for me to get a haircut.
2. Someone to make an appointment for me to get a haircut.
3. Someone to accompany me to said haircut appointment.
4. Therapy.

I think that after getting those things accomplished, I might start to feel better about this mess on top of my head.