I am having a bad hair day. A real one, where my hair looks just awful, though I meant it to look much better. This is because I am in the frustrating process of growing out my bangs and I have reached the no-man's land of hair growth where I can't do a dang thing with it. It's too long to style and too short to blend. In a word, it's blech.
I've had bangs my entire life. The rest of my hair has gone from Little Dutch Boy to Mullet to Marcia Brady, but the bangs remain eternal. Until now. This is my first concerted effort at growing them out and they are now just at the base of my nose. My husband mentioned that he thought I should see what my face looked like without the lovely squared-off fringe that has defined it for so long, so I am gritting my teeth and pushing on, though I itch to just whack them off with the scissors.
Secretly I am afraid (and at least partially convinced) that I am one of those people who can't really wear bang-less hair. Even now, at this length, my part looks a little Alfalfa-esque and if I try to part more to the side I get a curtain of hair falling in my eyes about 5 minutes after I leave the bathroom, no matter how much hairspray I use. I can leave the lavvy with bulletproof hair and it still falls gently down in little stuck-together clumps. I am experiementing with clippies, but so far I look like Early Trailer Court. Yummy. I just need a cigarette and a houserobe to compete the effect.
I have made a deal with myself that I'll wait 'til they're down to my mouth before I do anything drastic. If they're still driving me loony by then, it's sayonara.
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