Vanity Just Gets You In Trouble, Doesn't It

I have been debating lately on whether or not to cut my hair. I have been patiently growing it out--not one of my strongest points, by the way. For some reason, the second I feel hair dangling at the back of my neck, I have this compulsion to chop it off! So, this time I made it four months, quite a feat. I decided Monday that I would do it, I would get a hair cut. Another strange hair compulsion: I rarely pay to get my hair cut. A) I am cheap. B) I'm perennially afraid that it won't turn out how I want. Anyway, I called around Logan until I found a place that seemed reasonably priced, satisfying qualm A and just tried to swallow B in a lump. When I got there, I knew it was a mistake. My stylist had a picture of a girl on her station who looked like she was straight out of an 80's glamour shot. I know I shouldn't be so snobby, but . . . my fears came true. I went home thoroughly disappointed with my new 'do. I then had a seemingly brilliant idea: "I'll just fix it myself!" For some reason, I figured that cutting my hair through most of my angsty high school experience qualified me to try it now. I did okay, for the most part, there were a few rough spots, but I have zero skill when it comes to bangs. I already knew this; I just wish someone would have been there to remind me: "Laura, you don't know how to cut bangs and you always, always mess them up. Please don't do it!" Alas, what's done is done. At least hair is not that big of a deal, it just grows back, right.