About ... oh ... almost three years ago, I guess it was ... I got The Haircut From Hell. I had decided that I rather liked my shoulder-length cut and was interested in taking it a bit shorter. So I talked in detail with the guy at the salon about how I wanted something shorter but still quite feminine, and I showed him a bunch of photos with examples of the sort of thing I wanted. All had quite a bit of length on top.
Well, apparently this guy had some sort of listening disability, because I ended up with not one hair on my head longer than 1/2". I am blind as a bat without my glasses on, so I didn't realize the damage until he was done and I put my glasses on and looked in the mirror and immediately went into a sort of numb, mute shock. By the time I'd walked home, however, the horror had truly set in.
I came into the house, and Shannon (not yet then my hubby) was sitting on the couch, watching tv. This meant he had his back to the door. He began to turn around when he heard the door, only to see a blur as I ran through the room, wailing pitifully, "Don't look at me!" I ran to my bedroom, slammed the door, threw myself full-length on the bed, and proceeded to indulge in a true, all-out, pre-teen-style sobfest. Shannon wisely left me alone until I had composed myself.
I emerged, eventually, wearing an A's baseball cap. Shannon eyed me warily, apparently not sure what he should say. He wanted to see the haircut, certain that it couldn't be all that bad. I refused. I insisted that I would wear the hat every moment until my hair had grown out a couple inches. He, being the eternal smart ass, asked, "Even in bed and in the shower?" and I grumped in response, "YES!"
Well, it took a painfully long time to grow out. And no, I didn't wear a hat the entire time. The haircut looked terrible on me, because I have pudgy cheeks. I looked like Charlie Brown, the round-headed kid ... with breasts. The growing-out period was so painful that I ended up keeping my hair short (though not that short!) for quite a while, until I decided to just let it grow, starting a little less than 2 years ago. I've had it trimmed significantly once in that time, but otherwise I'm just letting it go wild.
My youthful mistrust of hairstylists has returned, full force. Keep those scissors away from me! Within a couple years, I'll probably be sitting on my hair again.