My worst haircuts have always been the ones I've given myself. So, unfortunately, I can't blame hairdressers. Worst of all, I still haven't learned from it and continue to do it. And to top it all off: I cut my own children's hair!
I never had a worst haircut, but definitely had a worst hair colour! My sister tried to dye my hair blonde one New Year's Eve afternoon, and I ended up with bright orange hair (like traffic cone orange). What a fabulous way to start the new year!
Hahaha how long ago was that? And how long did it take to get rid of the orange? I asked for a caramel shade three years ago and I’m still dealing with the aftermath.
That was on New Year's Eve 2008, turning into 2009, a very strange year for me, and honestly, it makes sense it started that way. It took me months and months to get rid of that terrible colour, and probably years to get back to my usual shade!
Oooh I love this post--beautifully written, funny, and takes me right back to those teenage nights. But I need to know more about the improv classes??! That's the ultimate sacrifice right there.
Oh, the improv. I have never in my life felt more self-conscious than standing there in front of a bunch of strangers, waiting for a scene to manifest itself through my body. I felt painfully sober during the classes, which is weird because we weren't supposed to be drunk or high. But it felt like intoxicants were necessary to go through it somehow.
I just realized I need to reprocess the improv trauma. I might write a post about it.
I’ll need to find the Mediterranean angle for that one because it was a pretty culturally neutral brand of second-hand embarrassment. But I’ll do my best!
Edited to add that the embarrassment was very much first hand too…
What a wonderful flashback to my teenager hood!! Loved it.
And most important, it reminded me that I will be spending the next San Juan night in Spain, so it's time to revive the magic of that night, not only through this awesome post.
Oh, it reminds me when I was a teenager and pretended to be a well-seasoned hiker in the name of love (or lust, maybe). Many many years later I actually married the hiking, mountain-lover guy without any pretension this time. I love your story.
Something in between. I really enjoy beginner to medium level hikes, he still hikes without me whenever he’s serious about it and we both enjoy daiquiris in lazy summer afternoons. That’s life-hiking balance.
My worst haircuts have always been the ones I've given myself. So, unfortunately, I can't blame hairdressers. Worst of all, I still haven't learned from it and continue to do it. And to top it all off: I cut my own children's hair!
Hahah you're a daring woman, Elsa. I admire the ownership taken. Thanks for reading!
I never had a worst haircut, but definitely had a worst hair colour! My sister tried to dye my hair blonde one New Year's Eve afternoon, and I ended up with bright orange hair (like traffic cone orange). What a fabulous way to start the new year!
Hahaha how long ago was that? And how long did it take to get rid of the orange? I asked for a caramel shade three years ago and I’m still dealing with the aftermath.
That was on New Year's Eve 2008, turning into 2009, a very strange year for me, and honestly, it makes sense it started that way. It took me months and months to get rid of that terrible colour, and probably years to get back to my usual shade!
Oooh I love this post--beautifully written, funny, and takes me right back to those teenage nights. But I need to know more about the improv classes??! That's the ultimate sacrifice right there.
Aww thanks, Lindsey! It means a lot.
Oh, the improv. I have never in my life felt more self-conscious than standing there in front of a bunch of strangers, waiting for a scene to manifest itself through my body. I felt painfully sober during the classes, which is weird because we weren't supposed to be drunk or high. But it felt like intoxicants were necessary to go through it somehow.
I just realized I need to reprocess the improv trauma. I might write a post about it.
Yeah I think I would probably need an intoxicant to make it through that too! Would love to read about it though.
I’ll need to find the Mediterranean angle for that one because it was a pretty culturally neutral brand of second-hand embarrassment. But I’ll do my best!
Edited to add that the embarrassment was very much first hand too…
What a wonderful flashback to my teenager hood!! Loved it.
And most important, it reminded me that I will be spending the next San Juan night in Spain, so it's time to revive the magic of that night, not only through this awesome post.
That’s amazing, Carolina! Where in Spain? Enjoy and beware of hot guys—I mean coals!
Oh, it reminds me when I was a teenager and pretended to be a well-seasoned hiker in the name of love (or lust, maybe). Many many years later I actually married the hiking, mountain-lover guy without any pretension this time. I love your story.
I’m curious, did you end up liking the hikes for real? Or do you send the guy out on weekends and plop down on the couch with Netflix and a margarita?
Thanks for reading!
Something in between. I really enjoy beginner to medium level hikes, he still hikes without me whenever he’s serious about it and we both enjoy daiquiris in lazy summer afternoons. That’s life-hiking balance.