Twice since the lock down started my beautiful wife has cut my hair. Today, for the first time, she cut her own hair. She found a how-to video on youtube and this morning she went for it…
…and it looks GREAT! She’s not all that happy with it, but I think she looks fantastic. I am really impressed. There is literally nothing she can’t do.
All those right wing scum bags arming themselves to the teeth and storming into their state houses like the terrorists they are, demanding their hair stylists risk their health and go back to work so that they can get their hair cut.
Screw those terrorist pricks.
Back on May 8th my hair was longer than it had ever been. It was so long in the front that it was funny as hell. My wife gave me a glorious birthday gift when she cut it for me.
Fast forward to today, the three month anniversary of my last day in the office before my company shut down the buildings, the love of my life gave me another haircut. This time there was no messing around. She lopped off the places that were too long and then buzzed it like you’ve read about. Amazing.
It’s not quite high and tight, but it’s as short as I’ve had it since I was a little kid. It’s perfect. Bring on the summer.
Thank you, my beloved Jen. I know you were nervous about it, but you did great and I appreciate it so much. I love you!!!
Amazon delivered this yesterday:
Today is the day. When I woke up this morning I looked like this:
Eight weeks into quarantineland and I couldn’t take it anymore. Apparently neither could Jen because she volunteered to take care of it.
Success:
I feel like a new man. At last I can see what is in front of my face again.
Thank you, Jen. I love you so much!
It’s going to be a couple of weeks before this post pays off…
Jen and I had a pretty heavy conversation about a pretty heavy topic today. When I say heavy I mean that literally… we were talking about… my hair.
First, we discussed hair care products. Specifically, is there anything in the house that I could use to keep this bastard of a hairdo out of my eyes. Yes, there are a couple of styling products that I could try. I will experiment over the weekend. Just note… I hate product. Hate.
Our discussion included the subtopic of how everything we talked about is likely to fail in a big way. Jen offered to cut my hair. She’s offered a few times before but today I asked, “do you want to cut my hair?” and she answered, “yes.”
A kit with scissors… would you call it a grooming kit, or is that just for pets? Whatever, quality scissors have been ordered. Also, a set of clippers has been ordered as a back up in case something goes wrong with the actual hair cut process. By “go wrong” I mean either it can’t be done or it comes out really bad and needs to be fixed. There is a statistical probability that I may be in for my first ever buzz cut. At least I will be able to see where I am going, right?
Jen is nervous that it’s going to come out bad. I am not. For two reasons. One, I don’t care. Two, we are likely to be in lock down long enough that I will need a second haircut by the time we get out anyway. What difference does it make? Another reason, though unofficial, is how funny it is going to be. We are going to laugh our asses off all the way through this and it is going to be awesome.
The sad reality hit at this point though. Mother Amazon will not be delivering the scissors or the clippers for a couple of weeks. That means you’re going to have to wait for the hilarious selfies.
Patients, Padawans.
I’ve been holding this one back for a while but it’s been an issue since day one.
I’m looking at the calendar trying to remember which day this started. I think it was the first day that Jen’s company sent everyone home. March 11th? I think? It might have been the 13th but I’m not sure. Let’s go with that, Friday the 13th. It has a nice ring to it.
Everything was still open but the signs were showing that everything was about to shut down. Before I left for work I told Jen I was planning on making a couple of stops on the way home. As it turned out I didn’t make any of them. Everyone was worried, everyone was starting to react. I decided I would not add any extraneous contact with the outside world and instead of running my errands I went straight home to be with my family.
One of the errands on my list that night was a haircut. I was already a few weeks past needing one. It was getting shaggy and it was starting to bug me a little. Just a little. I was actually trying to be proactive and get it done a little earlier than I usually do. I didn’t go through with it though.
Now it’s April 2nd. Sweet Christmas, does Roberto need to get himself a haircut. Two words: Cousin Effing It. It’s long enough in the front that when I get out of the shower I can’t see. I’m not kidding about the Cousin It. I don’t just feel like him, I look like him. It’s beyond rigoddammeddiculous at this point.
I can honestly say that I spent a couple of minutes on ebay searching for Flowbees in a non-ironic fashion.
What is it about New Hampshire?
Whenever I get my haircut at an establishment that is based in New Hampshire, I end up looking like I was given a trim by a new hire on the first day at work who is equipped only with a hedge trimmer.
Furthermore, why do I then continue to forget about the New Hampshire haircut connection and go back?
It’s like she only had one eye. Either that or she had two eyes and one was set 50% further into her head than the other. I look… lopsided.
I’m about to get in a fight with a lawn mower.
I’m three hours and 39 minutes away from the weekend. This has been a hard fought week. Being the first full week in a while, thanks to holidays and sick days, it has seemed nearly endless. The end is in sight though.
There are a few things I want to get done this weekend. Here’s my list.
First: Do everything humanly possible to make my beautiful wife Jen feel better. She’s had three doctors look at her in the last eight days and still she doesn’t feel any better. I want so bad for her to get over this. I want my sweetie to be all better.
Second: Stop coughing all the time.
Third: Get a haircut ya hippie!
Forth: Take down the Christmas decorations. It’s time.
Fifth: Get the damn tire fixed. It was time six months ago.
Sixth: I found out why the cat runs away anytime she gets caught in the cellar. There is a little rug we have in front of the couch. We very rarely sit on that couch, so this has been slipping past us for a while… but there are at least three places on the rug where little miss kitty lost her lunch. That rug has got to go away now, bye bye.
Seventh: Does the cat have a similar hiding place in one of the closets? I need to empty it and find out.
Eighth: Relax and enjoy a full weekend with the kids.
Hopefully I’ll get at least a couple of these items done this weekend. We shall see.
Inside the Red Head's Head 