Haircut

I love getting my haircut. LOVE. IT. I always forget that I love getting my haircut until I arrive for my next appointment. I think the reason I forget that I love it is that I hate talking on the phone. HATE. IT. (to the extent that it is actually my new year's resolution for 2010 to make all the phone calls at home). And because going to get a haircut involves phoning, there's this weird anxiety attached to it. Strange.

Self-analysis aside, I got my haircut today. It was awesome. The whole process. "Can I take your coat Justin?" Sure! "Would you like a coffee Justin?" Would I?! Then the hairwashing, which involves a shampoo. Then a rinse. Then ANOTHER shampoo. Then rinse. Then conditioner. Ah-mazing. I literally take 1.23 minutes washing my hair everyday. Having someone else put a ridiculous amount of time into what amounts to a scalp massage is nothing short of bliss. Then the combing of my hair, slicked back - like I'm some badass gangsta whose out ta get ya.

The sitting in the chair, and the familiar "what can I do for your today Justin?" At this point, I feel there's an unspoken understanding between the hairdresser and I: "look at the state of me. clearly, I should have come in about a month ago, and how could I show my face in public, please help." I'm not a fancy guy. I wash my hair, dry it, then go. My two decision rules for getting a haircut are a) Leigh asks if I'm growing my mullet out, or b) I can't see because my hair is in front of my eyes. Because of my simple haircare routine, I feel slightly bad for my answer to 'what can I do for you today Justin'. I feel like they want me to say something challenging and complex and interesting. Something that's versatile, that I can wear 8 different ways, with 4 different molds, putties, waxes and mortar. Rather, I deliver the standard line: "I like it long. I want this look, only so I don't have a mullet/so I can see (depending on decision rule)." Sorry hairdresser, I'm no [insert hip dude's name], just a regular guy.

And then there's the haircut chat. It's awesome. It starts with the usual boring weather chat, but as soon as I work in that I'm doing a PhD in Psychology... Floodgates = open. I love hearing about people's lives - their dreams, their goals, what they do. awesome. And hairdressers are typically very chatty to begin with and are happy to discuss the ins and outs of their lives. Fascinating.

This graph is a good representation of the on-going experience of evaluating the progress of my haircut: http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/comics/uncategorized/2009-10-16-2c33d5a.png

Ok, maybe not everytime, but often. But I accept it. It's part of the fun. My mundane haircut instructions usually mean that hairdressers add their bit of flair and creativity at the end. I'm happy to oblige. I've gotten a head massage and good life story - it's the least I can do.