Driftin' Back: Hypocrite, party of 1

Most of my life, I had short hair. My hair grows very slowly. When I got pregnant and started prenatal vitamins, that shit grew like wild fire. I kept cutting it because I can't stand the heat. Oh, and I have no clue how to style my hair. I've tried, really, I have and it always ends in disaster. But a few years ago, I was determined to grow it long. And I did. And I loved it! I still couldn't style it very well. I am cursed with natural curls. I'm also cursed with rosacea and a double chin. Fortunately, I was spared the orange hair my father had. Oh, and his inability to swim. I can't swim well, but well enough not to drown if I fall out of a boat (provided I don't hit my head on anything and become unconscious). RIP, Daddy-O! Do you have to pay child support where you are now? Because you owe, you know!

Since I'm style-challenged, I wear my long hair in ponytail. I have to wear a headband or barrettes, too, because my layers fall out of the rubber band. Or ouchless elastic, whatever.

I spent many months grumbling about how much I hated Morena Baccarin's hair in the show, V.

I thought it made her look like a rat, not the gorgeous Inara she was on Firefly.

Then one day, I was reading on one of my boards about a little girl who cut her hair to donate. I decided I wanted to do that. I measured my ponytail - 12 inches!!! I had enough. And since I was going to donate all of it, I figured I'd go short - shorter than I ever have. I browsed the Web for two days looking for something I thought I'd like. I finally settled on a pixie cut.

I consulted with a few people, most of whom told me to go for it. Except my step-daughter. She said no It was almost as if I'd asked her if I should divorce her dad. Whenever we joked about us splitting up, the girl would pitch a fit. Glad to know she loves me. I'd do anything for my little apple blossom. Who graduates from high school in 3 weeks. Damn.

So, I finally went to the cheap hair place I always go to. They have ridiculously high turnover for their stylists. I got a nice older lady who tried talking me out of making such a huge change, but when I assured her that I'd had short hair in the past, and that the long hair look was actually new for me, she agreed to cut it. She didn't cut it as short as the picture - she thought I might have second thoughts. When I left the salon, I loved my hair. I didn't have it falling in my face, it wasn't falling out and sticking to my shirt, and I was nice and cool.

Forty-eight hours later, I'm kicking myself. Not really with regret that I have Morena-Baccarin-in-V hair but with my own inability to style a simple stupid hair cut. Even short, I can't get it to look nice. I wash it, towel dry, spread a little styling shit through it, and try to make it look presentable. And I end up looking like giant dough ball with pepperoni and short, wild frizz.