Hair stylist

So apparently I have become the go-to girl for style questions and concerns. Lately, however, I have added barber and stylist to my resume. My mom was a hairdresser in the early 90's and has taught me a few tricks of the trade, but I am in no way qualified. Did you hear me? I am in no way qualified.

My friends seem to think otherwise. If in the future worst comes to worst, I could probably highlight my hair. I could also trim up my bangs or clip a few split ends. I have highlighted a couple of guys and girls hair under the supervision of my mom and it turned out really good if I do say so myself. Well, I have learned my lesson to never tell that to broke college kids.

A few weeks ago, my roommate was complaining about her hair and the massive thickness that was consuming her. She knew exactly what sections she needed trimmed and clipped and shyly asked if I would do it. "Sure. Do you have scissors?" I asked. She ran to fetch my craft scissors that I keep next to my extra number 2's. Mistake #1. If she was okay with having craft scissors, which have been used to cut just about everything this side of Atlanta, who was I to stop her? So, we set up shop . She spreads a cut plastic bag out on the floor to keep hair in one space and I go grab my handy step-stool that I use to climb into bed. Her hair is still wet from the shower and that's all she wrote...well after a few panicked moments on my part. Why do people trust me with their hair????

She wanted it angled, easy enough until I got going and noticed that her hair was MASSIVE and apparently grows unbalanced. Mine does too, so don't feel bad roomie. I ended up cutting her hair; not trimming, not thinning out...cutting.

Tonight, I thinned out one of my guy friend's hair with some of my mom's thinning scissors. This went okay...he's a dude. Whatever. My roommate later picks up the strange scissors and I explain to her that only a section will be cut, blah blah. I test drive these scissors on a small section of her hair and leave her be. Mistake #2. I turn my back and Curious George snips the scissors shut multiple times on the largest chunk of hair she can grab. When she pulls out a toupee worth of hair, she begins to hyperventilate. I have a hair phobia and she's hyperventilating because "half her head" was gone. Drama queen. It was a lot of hair actually. So, dom dom dom, I have to play fix-it and even out her hair so her mother will not notice. This is my style on the line here woman!!

Now, she thinks she did a great job on her hair, while I am the one with two appointments for next week. Yep, you just keep on believing roomie.