6 inches

I couldn't believe my eyes.

6 whole inches.

I was in shock but at the same time felt... liberated.

6 inches... of my hair. Chopped off. I hadn't had my hair cut -- seriously cut -- in about 3 years. Since Kael was 20 months and we went to Kauai. It's so much easier to pull everything back into a ponytail and be done with it. Especially with 2 kids.

I've been tired of my long hair for some time now but just didn't have the motivation to cut it. If I cut it, I'd have to actually style it every morning and I wouldn't have my fail-safe pony tail to fall back on. Then one day (yesterday to be precise) I decided to cut it.

In fact, I had to have it cut. I called Lisa my girl but her salon doesn't open on Mondays. She could fit me in Tuesday but Truong's out of town until Wednesday and home late Thursday. What about Friday -- no, she's totally booked and she's got a wedding in Ladera on Saturday.

URGHH!!

So I called up everyone asking for their stylist. And no one could fit me in. I was so disappointed. Then I remembered: Truong's cousin Hau has someone she uses in Little Saigon. Hau has nice hair and is very conscientious about her appearance. So I called Hau. Unfortunately I forgot what rotation she's on (she's in medical school doing a stint in the hospital) and got her just after a 24 hour shift, trying to catch up on sleep.

Yikes. I felt awful. But I have to admit it was interesting talking to her. I doubt she remembered what she said to me and I now know what Hau would sound like if she ever dabbled in any hospital grade pharmaceuticals, slurred speech and all.

Anyway, I got the number and the lady was able to fit me in. Hau in her stupor failed to mention that the lady was nuts. Good with scissors but totally NUTS. She wasn't where she was supposed to be, she gave me wrong directions thus making me 20 minutes late, and while she told me she had to be somewhere at 6:30pm, she had me wait while she had false eyelashes glued on. One lash at a time. And then she said something about something burning in her eye while she cut my hair.

It was an interesting visit. Luckily my kids were on their best behavior. Malia was in the stroller watching a DVD and though Kael's DVD player ran out of juice, he was content to talk to the ladies there. In fact, he chatted with them so much that I could see them shooting me incredulous looks of "Is he like this all the time?!" It was very cute. I don't think those Vietnamese ladies understood his discourse on the different spider species or why his venus flytrap will only drink distilled water but I was relieved to have someone else be the recipient of his constant chatter.

In the end, I got the cut I wanted but I sure didn't look like Ellen Barkin in Ocean's 13. Apparently my hair is too thick and wavy. While I could straighten it, it would still be too thick to be the sleek bob that I so covet. Such is my hair story: always too wavy or too thick for the look I want. But I still liked my new cut.

Truong didn't understand what the hair up my butt was about getting my hair cut but I guess Shana had a chat with him (don't think he didn't tell me, Shana). She convinced him that it was pregnancy hormones, to let me do whatever I needed to do and support me on it, and (this is the best one) to compliment me on the new cut before he said anything else, especially before he started laying into me about dragging the kids everywhere -- otherwise risk having his head bit off.

Let's clear something up, just for the record: I don't think it was pregnancy hormones. I just wanted my hair cut! It's not as if I wanted a pint of ice cream while getting my hair cut.

Geez people!