the hair consipiracy
to the (hair?) gods that be:
i am sorry if i have offended you in some way, but i feel your wrath upon me and i must humbly admit i am not sure what i have done to instigate the recent manifestations of your disapproval. much like any relationship in my life where the other side of the union is upset or angry and i cannot think back to my offence, i cannot help but be hurt and confused by the malevolence that results.
my last foray into the sparkly glamour of the salon/spa world resulted in a haircut that was exactly what i didn't ask for. the complete disregard for any preference i had absolutely boggled my mind; i still can't understand how someone in the 'biz' can blatantly ignore the requests of the customer. however, the recent episode makes me think that perhaps it is me that is cursed to be ignored and shapened at the hands of the enthusiastic, though misdirected, attendants. as i submitted myself to a relaxing facial and my favorite day spa, my tranquility was suddenly cracked by the snipping of scissors and then shattered by the smearing of wax on my brows. the girl wielding the dangerous weapons had just finished gushing about how much she LOVED my brows and despite her begging to "do" them, i politely, but firmly, declined. it appears, however, that once that masque goes on and the eyes are covered, homegirl gets free reign. and not only does she get to do whatever she wants, but apparently she gets to be visibly upset when i explain to her why i didn't want her to do it in the first place (like, for example, my eyebrow comb-over from my non-hair-growing scar).

so please, gods, please bring to light what grievance you have with me so i may change my ways... i don't think the rest of my hair on my body could handle whatever trauma you may have planned.