Friday, June 11, 2010
A couple months ago, after a trip to Supercuts, where Adam's hair turned out wonderfully and mine was cut lopsided for THE SECOND TIME (Don't even get my started. I know my hair is impossibly thick but really? I need to find a stylist here in California) It occurred to him that all the lady was doing was using a shaving razor. He thought he could buy his own kit, and cut it himself. I thought this was a bad idea. Not just because I think doing hair is probably harder than it looks, but mainly because I knew the task of doing his hair would probably fall to me. I just don't need the pressure of that kind of life or death responsibility. I can't even style my own hair. But I have to admit that the cheapskate side of me was really interested in the amount of money we could save. You know, I could use that extra money for itunes, lollipops, or maybe some strippers.
So he bought the kit and one Saturday a couple of months ago we broke out the razor. We stood in our bathroom (which is smaller than a kitchen cabinet by the way), both frozen in fear. He said he couldn't get started cutting his hair because every time he looked at me I had the, "Oh Shit" look on my face. An expression I wear quite often. But soon he started, and it actually went pretty well. And I even was able to calm my nerves enough to do a pretty decent job of the back of his head. Although I did think about shaving my initials in the back of his head, like my brother did with his high school girlfriend, but I didn't think Adam would appreciate that very much. Logically, the first time cutting your own hair should be the hardest time. Right? Wrong.
Saturday Adam's hair was getting a little long, so he decided it was time to break out the handy dandy razor. There was no worrying this time. He was going to get started on the front, and after I finished putting some clothes in the dryer outside, I would finish up in the back. When I got in from outside, I walked into the bathroom and was about to start nagging Adam because he hadn't taken the bathmats out of the bathroom first. Therefore, making it harder to sweep up the hair afterwards. But then I noticed Adam was slumped over the sink with a half-smirk, half-pained expression on his face. Then, I noticed two strips of hair where he was almost bald.
I'd like to think that the reason he chose the wrong length for the razor blade is because I wasn't there to stop him. But that is because I want to believe I'm all knowing and never wrong. But of course I didn't tell Adam that (no time to gloat), and instead I just had to jump into damage control mode. "Yes, it is a lot shorter than you want it to be, but it doesn't look that BAD. But you have no choice now, you gotta finish to make it even." "Yeah, you keep saying it doesn't look bad, but every time I go to shave more off, you cringe." I don't know what was wrong with me, but I just couldn't stop cringing, and I couldn't stop watching. His haircut reminded me of when I was in middle school and the bald look on guys was the cool thing. It seemed like everyday I went to school, five more baldies would have suddenly appeared overnight. Except most of the guys had really really lumpy heads, or they would cut themselves shaving and would walk around all day with bandaids on their heads.When he was done he was a close to bald, as you could possibly get.
Its been hard this past week to take Adam very seriously. Once we were *making out*, and I just couldn't stop laughing, because all I could see was a big que ball head coming toward me. I know he has not been very comfortable with how he looks, and the big kids at work have been teasing him. (We call Adam's coworkers the bigs kids because he is the youngest guy in his office). I took a flip video of Adam after the haircut was done, and I promise you the video is amazing, funny, tragic, and magical. But unfortuantely I promised I wouldn't post it (because he has his shirt off), and even I will respect that. But just so you know Adam currently looks like a mixture of: