Hairstylists Curse the Name of Little Miss S

My hair and I have a love-love relationship. It’s one of the things I have always liked about myself, and it’s also a way I express myself. I’ve cut it, dyed it, spiked it, grown it down to my butt and made a little mustache out of it. Once I let RJ cut it and cried like a little girl. A terrible haircut was the reason Mister E called me for the first time when I lived in Chicago. I live in constant fear that I’ll put on a hat or wig that includes nits. Everything I do to my hair is done with the understanding that no matter what I do to it hair grows back.

NITS. ::side eyes::

Right now it’s getting out of control because I’m hair farming again. When I said that hair grows back, it’s because it does for me. My hair grows ridiculously fast. Unfortunately, for some people it doesn’t grow as fast or at all. Hence, the farming.

Current state of the farm.

When I was a wee’un, I spent months at a time in the hospital because they thought I had brain cancer. I didn’t, but while I was on the children’s oncology ward I met a lot of really nice hairless kids. Some of my little hairless friends mysteriously disappeared from time to time, and it wasn’t until later that I realized why. As such, I have a big place in my dark and filthy heart for kids with cancer or untreatable illnesses and even though I would rather eat glass than have a child in my house for an extended period of time, I happily donate and volunteer with them. And every couple of years I grow my hair to an annoying length so I can cut it off for Locks of Love. I get good excuse to chop off my hair, kids get a fancy nit-free hairpiece and everyone gets good karma. (Interesting side note: Mister E also donated his hair to LL when we first started dating again!)

The only person who loses here is the hairstylist. She’s the one I go up to with a picture of a manga character and say “make my hair look like this!” Whenever they see me coming up to the salon with a piece of paper in my hand, they board up the doors and start shouting “NOT IT” at each other. I think they prefer the kids with nits.

My current interest, much to the chagrin of Mister E, is getting my hair cut like Ikkyu from Afterschool Charisma, an idea I have been harping on about since I started reading that series. Super short all over and a little spiky except for the long bangs on one side. My hair used to look like this, in a way.

This is Ikkyu. Google his original for Level 4 Awesome.

Interestingly enough, his hairstyle is similar to another monk from one of my all-time favorite manga, Chichiri from the uber-classic awesomeness Fushigi Yuugi. Either this is a thing in Japan or Ikkyu is a closet fan of shoujou. Either way, I’m good with it.

Chichiri says "cool story, bro."


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