I hate my hair

My mom bought me a "make-over" package this weekend so I would look nice for my great-grandfather's party. She doesn't like my hair apparently. So I was stoked! A chance to redo my look, get a cut (it's been awhile) and do something fun! At the salon I ended up with a different guy because the girl I was scheduled with took an emergency personal day. Whatever, I'm laid back so I said OK! I went in wanting carmel on bottom, little richer brown on top with a chunk by my bangs. He goes darker, which at the time I didn't think was a huge deal. Then the bleach comes out, then the brown goes black, then he tells me he doesn't blow dry hair straight when it's been processed this much. Then, "Oh! Your bangs look like fire! Neat!"

Then I leave telling myself I'm not crying over hair because that's dumb but feeling like a total tool because I wasted an opportunity to look amazing. So I called them back and said I hated it, that I felt like white trash, and I wanted it fixed. I'm kinda embarrassed by the hysterics I pulled on the phone. They scheduled me for Friday. The longer I sat with it and thinking about going to work tomorrow and the money mom spent...I called and moved it up to Wednesday.

If I sprayed, I'd be a skunk.

So this will officially be the first time I won't post a 100 pictures of me smiling and all different angles of my hair. Enjoy it while it lasts.