Split Ends

I've desperately needed to have my hair cut for about the last 2 months.  Since I'm a professional transient, I once again find myself in a new city without the comfort of a well-trained, well shampooed hair stylist.  

In Logan, I had the best stylist ever. Her name was Johanna and she was so nice and pretty and thankfully, never took me seriously when I told her I wanted bangs like Hillary Duff. Then one tragic day, she informed me she was moving out of state.  And just like that, she was gone, out of my life forever.

I soon found myself in Las Vegas, once again needing my hair cut.  Vegas was a tricky place to just walk into a salon and hope you get what you want. I mean, it's Las Vegas. There are more crazy people per square block in that place than anywhere in the world so it's not something I'm going to mess around with, you know? However,  I guess I'd been paying tithing or something because one Sunday my new visiting teachers stopped by and like a miracle from heaven, one of them was a hair stylist.  I immediately set up an appointment with Cami, thrilled with the new possibility that this gaping void in my life would somehow be filled again.  As Cami finished my cut and color, I could actually feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders.  My hair was cute and exactly how I wanted it, but better because she knew what she was doing and I did not.  

Like most perfect relationships, this one did not last either.  I moved from Vegas to Sacramento, where I had my hair trimmed once by a stylist I found through a recommendation web site. I didn't want to get too attached as I knew I probably wouldn't stay in Sacramento for too long, so I wasn't that upset when I picked up and left again.

Cut to me, today, needing my hair cut again and walking into a salon asking for a walk-in appointment.  There was nothing special about this salon. In fact, the only reason I chose to walk into this one is because they had a sign out front advertising 10% off walk-in appointments. Being a victim of this horrific recession,  I was in no position to look elsewhere.

My appointment was with Lois. Lois reminded me of a cross between Diablo Cody and Stella from Project Runway Season 5.  But with less leather and  maybe more faux fur.  She told me she was a writer, working on a couple screenplays and currently looking for funding.  She was also an astrologer, painter, spiritual healer, and a 3-time divorcee currently engaged to number 4. She knew a lot about indie music and movies, which I thought was pretty cool.  I asked for a trim and a little reshaping, which I thought she did well, although with a varied technique I'd never seen before. Usually when someone cuts my hair, they finish it off but running some texturizing shears through the ends, but she didn't.  Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just caught me off guard. However, Lois lost me when she blow dried my hair and then neglected to get the flat iron on it.  Now, I'm no expert. Clearly. But my hair is not straight. It's not curly. It's not even wavy.  In it's natural state, it lies somewhere in this awful in-between area; an area that requires a flat iron. However, Lois did not see the need and therefore I walked out of that place with not straight/not curly/unironed hair.  

I'm not going to blame Lois. She did what I asked and I guess as a customer I could have requested she flat iron my hair.  But, my point is this: Finding a good hair stylist is a lot like finding a good boyfriend.  It's painfully difficult and when you do find one, it never lasts. So for all you who are blissfully happy with the person who cuts your hair, I say to you this; hold on to him/her.  Don't take them for granted, appreciate them and make sure they know how you feel.

And if anyone in the greater Salt Lake City area has a great stylist they'd like to share, I would love to be set up.