I hate my hair.

*Party with me Tuesday, July 12th at CHUCK-A-RAMA in Draper! Send me an email if you’re interested, regardingannie@gmail.com.

What’s good for the hair is not always good for the soul.

I am blond. Whether nature agrees with me or not, there is only one way I’m happy and that is glow in the dark platinum. Bring on the ruddy skin and split ends, I’ll act as lighthouse any day of the week.

Of all the things I’m going to miss next week when we move to Germany, my darling hair girl, Sierra, is right at the top of my list. She gets me and has managed to make getting a cut and color a delightful, fumigating experience. I always leave with a bounce in my step, feeling sassy and happy. No one fights the frump better than Sierra.

I was all set to have my last hair appointment with her a few days ago when disaster struck. Her adorable little girls came down with a virus and she had to reschedule. Unfortunately for both of us, the virus kept hanging on and I had no choice but to find a last minute replacement.

I found a salon where a girlfriend of mine works and swung by for an emergency appointment. The gal on duty looked to be about my age with super cute hair–two good signs. I took a breath and made the appointment.

Since I’m about to be hairgirl-less, I’ve decided that it’s time to take the platinum down a notch and go back to something more in the honey blond family. It’s darker and I hate that, but it will be manageable.

For those of us who don’t know the in’s and out’s of hair coloring, taking a platinum blond with darkish roots to a medium shade is tricky. This is why I go to someone with plenty of experience; they know how to handle stupid idiot women who get off on bleach fumes.

But when I explained to the new girl that I wanted to go all over with one color, she got confused. I couldn’t understand why she was having such a hard time understanding what I wanted and she finally said, “Look, you’re just really confusing me, I don’t know what you want.” Then she stomped off to the back of the salon and closed the door.

There is nothing worse than putting your most vulnerable feature in the hands of a virtual stranger (a stranger who, I found out later, has only been doing hair FOR TWO WEEKS) only to be told that they have no idea what you want. To make matters worse, she didn’t stick around to talk through it with me.

I am about as vulnerable right now as a souffle in a cold kitchen. My life is in limbo, my kids are all on the verge of panic attacks 24 hours of every day, I’m trying to hold everything together and all I want is a good hair job so I can move to Germany feeling semi-attractive.

I decided that perhaps she wasn’t a good fit and gathered my things to leave. When she finally came back out I told her that I really wasn’t feeling comfortable, but thanked her for her time. She turned around and stomped back into the store room without a word.

I was flustered, frustrated and frightened. But with family pictures looming I felt desperate so I turned to my girlfriend who was working on another client. “Don’t worry,” she said, “If you want to stay I will help her and we’ll get it right, I promise.” I sat back down, and when the girl returned I quickly apologized for my anxiety and asked her if we could start again.

Then she told me off, made me feel like a complete jerk, and grudgingly agreed to do my hair. I, of course, burst into tears and spent the next two hours apologizing and trying to make her feel better about the situation. When she was done, I looked in the mirror and put on the biggest, fakest smile I could muster. My. Hair. Is. Ruined.

Every time I look in the mirror I want to cry. Not only did she get the shade darker (which I tried to tell her before she started), but my hair has streaks of colorless gray running all through it. You know it’s bad when your 8 year old looks at you really seriously and says, “You know, Mom, I saw this stuff on TV that would probably help your hair. Would you like me to go to the store and get it with you?”

The whole experience was draining and upsetting and in hind site, I didn’t have to stay there just to prove that I’m a nice person. And lucky for me the owner is absolutely wonderful and amazing and tomorrow morning I’m going in for a re-do since I can’t live another minute looking this way. I was going to have her whack my hair off but by the time she had unveiled the color, I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

She didn’t take any of my friend’s advice, and she didn’t know what she was doing. Sadly, I found out this morning that this wasn’t the first problem they’ve had with her in the past two weeks and this morning they let her go (for the record, I did not say anything to the owner about this, the other employees did). I sincerely hope she has better luck with her next employer.

Fingers crossed I feel more like myself after tomorrow.