Ode to Jessie, Quintessential Male Stylist

This morning I decided that I couldn't procrastinate any longer. I need a haircut. It's been seven months, and my hair is TOO LONG. All the layers have grown out and any resemblance of the original masterpiece that it was is long gone.

The reason it's been so long since my last haircut is that my stylist left me. He broke up with me, in the worst way possible. He left the oh-so-cute, charming, not-trendy-even-though-it's-on-South-Congress salon that I first met him at. I remember our first meeting like it was yesterday. It was practically love at first sight. I was in a similar situation to the one I'm in today, in which I was very overdue for a haircut. My mane was a wreck because my last stylist had left me a while back, and his replacement had given me an unsatisfactory cut. I was terrified to try anyone else, so I didn't. For a long time. Several months later, I realized that even a bad haircut couldn't possibly look any worse than the grown out mess currently attached to my head. So in a fit of despair, I went on Yelp, chose a salon with high ratings, took a deep breath and called to schedule an appointment. Surprisingly, they had an opening that day, which was phenomenal because I had no time to back out in a last minute state of panic. That is how I met Jessie (yes, it's spelled with an 'i'). He was a "junior" stylist at the surprisingly laid back salon that happened to be in the middle of one of the "trendiest" boutique neighborhoods in town, and he happened to have an opening in his schedule on the busiest day of the week (Saturday). I told him how I wanted my hair to look, and shared with him how nervous I was to have someone cut my hair. He just smiled and said, "Let's go get you shampooed."

Famous last words, but I dutifully followed him to the sink, since I figured it was probably too late to run away now. But fate had dealt me a good hand that day, because Jessie was everything and more that I had hoped he'd be. He didn't make a ton of small talk (which I HATE), but the silence wasn't awkward. I was able to relax as he took his sweet time cutting and trimming and eyeing and cutting some more. And then he blew it dry and styled it. And it was amazing. For the first time in my life, I didn't have the urge to run back home and restyle it immediately. Of course, I had doubts that I'd be able to replicate it later on, but it turned out to be easy to style and kept on looking good, even months after. I couldn't believe my good fortune. And of course, when the time came, I went right back to Jessie for my next cut. He shyly told me that he'd raised his prices by $5, to which I replied that it was still a steal at the new price and not a problem at all. And it was a steal. The salon's prices were very reasonable, and much lower than the average compared to other salons in the area. Once again, Jessie cut my hair, taking at least an hour and half to meticulously perfect it. And again it was perfection.

And then he was gone. I can only assume that all my praise went to his head, and he decided to move on to somewhere that he could charge what his styling was actually worth. Fine. I can understand that, you've got to do what's best for you, Jessie. But to leave without any notice, without accurate contact information, without even so much as a "see ya later"? How could you? Do you know the kind of stress you've just brought down on me?? I've called and called your old salon, and the number you gave them for the salon that you left me for is not even a working number. They've told me the name of the salon, and I've called all the salons in town with similar names, but nobody's heard of you. I'm devastated. How do I go on?

And so I find myself in the same situation as last year, without a stylist and so terrified to try anyone else that I've just let my hair grow with wild abandon. But I can't manage it any longer, so I spent three hours today researching online and calling salons, looking for any male stylist with reasonable pricing and availability and in the next few days. Nothing. So I did something I swore I'd never do again. I made an appointment with a female hairstylist. And I'm terrified.

Before you judge me, hear me out. I have nothing against women. I am one. I think they're pretty great. But my past experiences have lead me to a truth that I know to be real. Men and women hairstylists are not created equal. I have formulated a theory as to why that is. I believe that when you walk into a salon, sit down in the styling chair and pour out your hopes and dreams to the stylist looking at you in the mirror, they respond in one of two ways, depending on their gender. The male stylist listens, nodding politely until you've finished describing the vision you have for your hair. He then asks questions as necessary for clarification, ponders thoughtfully for a moment, and proceeds to do his best to create the look you have asked him for. The female stylist has a similar approach, at first glance. She listens as well, asks questions, and then goes to work. The difference is that when you walk in the salon door and are escorted back to meet your female stylist, the moment she sees you, before you have even said a word, she has already begun to create her own vision for your hair. In her head, she's already thinking that gosh, that woman needs some face-framing layers and she's much too short to have hair that long and wouldn't her skin tone just GLOW with a few caramel highlights. She can't help it. She's a woman. That's what we do. So you sit down and describe what YOU want for your hair, and she listens, she really does, but in her head is that image that she's already created, and even though she hears you, she's already subconsciously decided in which direction your hair needs to go. And that's how you end up with a hairdo that isn't quite what you thought you wanted. 

Now, you're either nodding your head in agreement or foaming at the mouth in anger after reading the last paragraph. I know it's a polarizing thing to say, but I'm pretty confident that I'm right about this. And I'll admit that there might actually be some good hairstylists that are women out there. It's totally possible that there are exceptions to the rule. I just haven't met them yet. I can honestly say that I have never had a good haircut from a woman. I'm not joking and I'm not exaggerating. Since I was a teenager and started paying for my own haircuts, I have lived this truth. Heck, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a good haircut until I was in my twenties. For years, I went to the same stylist that my mom did. In hindsight, that probably should have been my first clue. Not that my mom's hair didn't look good; it did. But my mom's been getting her haircut the same way for as long as I can remember. I guess she finds something she likes and she sticks to it. Every time I got my haircut, I'd rush home and try to comb out all the crazy products and re-wet and blow my hair dry to see if I could make it look the way I'd wanted. And I never quite could. This went on for years. Then one day my sister got married. And this hairstylist of my mom's did her hair that day. She brought another stylist from her salon to help with the bridesmaids' hair, of which I was one. This stylist happened to be male. And when I told him how I wanted my hair to look, he did it. Just the way I wanted. Of course it was just an up do, and not an actual haircut, but it was a start.

When the time came, I booked my next haircut with him and I never looked back. He did very well by me, and I was much happier with my hair overall. Until I moved to another state. I still tried to get him to cut my hair, scheduling with him anytime I was in town to visit my family, but the visits just weren't frequent enough, and his schedule couldn't accommodate such short notice. And so the story continues...I had a list of haircuts, by women, that I didn't like. So once again I stopped cutting my hair. After several months with unruly hair and abundant split ends, I bit the bullet and walked in to a nationally recognized chain salon. And a stylist had an opening, so I sat down and let him chop away. And I ended up with a great haircut. Ecstatic, I tried to book him again a few months later, but nope, he'd already left and no, they didn't know where he'd gone, do you want to make an appointment with our (female) master stylist who happens to have an opening today? Sure, why not. And...bad haircut...and months without a haircut again. The cycle continued on and on, until I found Jessie. And now he's left me, too.

I have no idea what will happen on Wednesday. I'm mildly comforted by the thought that nothing could look worse than my hair already does. And by mildly comforted, I mean that I'm hyperventilating.

New City!!

It's been so long since I lived in/near a city, I'd forgotten how great it is. I've been going a little overboard since moving to Austin four days ago...

That's right, I live in Austin now. After six months of small Texas towns in the middle of nowhere, I'm THRILLED to be here! My Groupon account has been reactivated and is already my best friend again; I've already used two. I haven't eaten anything I've gotten at the (wonderful, organic, has EVERYTHING on my list) grocery store yet, because I've been too busy being excited every five minutes when I drive by a new restaurant (or dive, or food truck) I want to try; I've eaten out or ordered in for almost every meal. (Groupon has also come in handy for this.) I ordered pizza the other night, from a non-chain place, it was AMAZING. Everywhere on every menu in every eatery in town there are multiple vegetarian options, so I never have to eat cheese enchiladas three days in a row ever again. Next week I'm taking my boyfriend to a concert of an actual, nationally-known musician. And we don't have to drive 2+ hours to get there, it's more like less than 2 miles away. I've been researching yoga studios (yes, plural, so awesome) to find which one best mirrors my favorite yoga style, setting, etc. It's so great to have choices again, whether in food, exercise, or entertainment. Already loving this place!

Although I do love being in the city, Austin isn't just any city. More to come on why I wanted to move here over other choices, and why Austin is already my favorite city of all the ones I've visited so far. So glad I'm here to stay for a while.

What I Saw When I Wasn't Looking

I was trying to park my car at the eye doctor's office today, driving slowly through the parking lot so as not to run over all the old people. (I'm always the youngest patient at the eye doctor's office, by about 30 years.) I was lost in my own little world when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Literally, I stopped. Well, I had to, because what I was looking at was this elderly couple walking right in front of my moving car. So I stopped and let them pass, but after they had walked away, my foot stayed on the brake as I turned to follow them with my gaze. Something about them arrested my attention.

The man had large, dark glasses on, the kind that you get after they've dilated your eyes and you can't stand the sun. He was having obvious difficulty seeing. The woman was wearing normal corrective lenses, but she was having quite some difficulty walking, taking small, unsure steps to maintain her balance. She had her arm through his, and his other hand grasped hers as she leaned into him. In a similar manner he leaned into her as she guided him. They clung to each other for dear life as they painstakingly helped each other across the parking lot.

I couldn't tell you anything else about them, what they were wearing, the average age they appeared to be, the type of vehicle they got into. I didn't notice. In that moment, the only thing I saw were two people, close enough to be one, counting on each other for each step they took. Something about it was so poignant that it was overwhelming. In that one glimpse, I learned something about life, the beauty and sorrow it holds, about true love and compassion and companionship. And I sat there, not trying to understand why I was overwhelmed with emotion, but just thankful that I had been.

Unstuck in The World

"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – he realized that he was not his car, he realized that he was not his job, he was not his phone, his desk or his shoes. Like a boat cut from its anchor, he’d begin to drift."

"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – he took the wind for a map, he took the sky for a clock, and he set off with no destination. He was never lost."

"There once was a man who became unstuck in the world – instead of hooks or a net, he threw himself into the sea. He was never thirsty."

"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – with a Polaroid camera he made pictures of all the people he met, and then he gave all the pictures away. He would never forget their faces."

"There was once a man who became unstuck in the world – and each person he met became a little less stuck themselves. He traveled only with himself and he was never alone."

"There was once a man who’d become unstuck in the world – and he traveled around like a leaf in the wind until he reached the place where he started out. His car, his job, his phone, his shoes – everything was right where he’d left it. Nothing had changed, and yet he felt excited to have arrived here – as if this were the place he’d been going all along."


-Castles in the Sky

New Year Res

Before I made any new resolutions, I thought it'd be a good idea to look back at last year's and see how I made out. Here's the one I posted last year...

"Stop wasting your time, your energy, your emotions, on people that don't deserve it or appreciate it. Instead of spreading yourself thin, focus more on culturing the relationships that bring you joy, and that you can add value to. Love yourself even more than you did last year. Believe in the best version of yourself. Listen more and talk less. Be the kind of person that you want others to see in you. And always, always see the good in everyone."

And as I read that, I remember how I felt at the beginning of last year, so full of hopes and expectations, so pleased at the previous year for all of its accomplishments. I felt so strong, so confident, and with that came excitement for the coming year, with all its new experiences and growth...I had no clue what was coming. To say this year had its share of challenges would be an understatement. Without tedious details, I feel like 2011 knocked the wind out of me. I spent most of the year just trying to breathe and do my best to look ahead for the "something better" I had to believe was coming. (It's why I didn't blog much this year...I didn't want to be living in my world, much less writing about it.)

So did I keep my resolutions? Let's see. I did a better job of figuring out which relationships I should be focusing on. I learned a little more about who I could count on, and who I couldn't, though I'm still working on that. And I did my best to see the good in everyone.

Where I may have failed is in the more personal side of that resolution. I lost a little faith in myself this year. I wasn't as strong as I wanted to be, wasn't as strong as I wanted everyone else to think I was. When the storms came, I didn't fall, but I wavered a little.

But with the realization that this new year will bring new challenges comes the reassurance that I have the power to decide how I react to them. With that in mind, here's the resolutions I wrote to myself for 2012...

"Believe in yourself. Keep dreaming. But don't just dream...grow your dreams. Count your blessings more frequently than your bills. Speak slowly and with purpose. Continue to be a better listener. Pause long enough to find beauty where it's unexpected. And most importantly, have a closer relationship with your heavenly Father."

Why I Want to Date John Mayer

Here I am, three o'clock in the morning, too much iced tea, now I can't sleep. What to do...watch YouTube videos of anything John Mayer related. Not really sure how that started, was just wandering around on YouTube when I remembered an episode of CMT Crossroads with John Mayer and Keith Urban that I wanted to relive. And it just snowballed from there...not the first time that's happened. He has a way of sort of sucking you into his energy somehow. You just want to see more...and more. To pass the time, here's some documented reasons why I'd like to date John Mayer.

Those roguish good looks. Can't deny it, everybody knows it, no one more than John himself, I'm sure. Can't put my finger on it exactly...is it the dark, wavy hair that always manages to look so touchable? The lazy, half-closed, bedroom eyes? The full lips that contort in so many ridiculous ways when he performs?

But maybe it's more than the looks. No, it definitely is. There's this charisma, this cockiness, that's magnetic and not the least bit hindered by his mischievous, somewhat boyish charm. Hard to describe. Some kind of egotistical, devil-may-care, I-haven't-quite-grown-up-yet attitude coupled with a quirky sense of humor that sometimes comes off as a little asinine, but secretly can be very attractive. After all, what girl doesn't want to be with a guy with such an ultra-personality, who knows who he is in each moment? But then there's that guarded side of his, when he says too little, gets standoffish, defensive, protective. I admired him for saying what he wanted, for speaking his mind, even when it didn't always portray him in the best light. I admired him even more when he stopped doing that, and instead left the mainstream and became quietly private about everything. It displayed this multi-faceted quality about him that's utterly fascinating. How much of this is just a series of perfectly calculated maneuvers on his part, I'll never know, but it's working for him.

Another thing about him that's fascinating? His mind. The guy is really, really intelligent...in a crazy, brilliant, nerdy, creative way. Just listening to him speak, his vocabulary, his unusual thought process, it's mesmerizing. I would sit perfectly still and listen to him talk for hours if I had the opportunity. In fact, I'd like to take a journey inside his head for a day, just to see what it's like inside that neurotic, type-A brain. That'd be one wild ride. Back in the day, I joined Twitter to follow John Mayer. He was the best of the best at one-liners and random bits of anything and everything. I'm still sad he's not doing it anymore.

But it's more than all this. Watching videos of some of his performances and remembering what it was like to be at one of his live concerts, I'm trying to put my finger on just what it is about John Mayer that's so unequivocally captivating. Is it the tilt of his head, his lips on the microphone when he sings? That deep, gravelly voice or the way his long, graceful fingers slide over the strings with a familiarity that'd make you swear his guitar was an extension of himself? But no, it's more than that, too. I was watching this video of a live performance of possibly my favorite JM song when it hit me. What he does, the art that he creates, is so beautiful. Watching him perform, you can see into his soul, his heart, feel his passion. He creates this energy, and you want to just reach out and touch it, wrap it around you until you're enveloped in it, anything to be a part of his light. That's it. You just want to be "where the light is."

When did eating healthy becoming an eating disorder?

I want to start off by saying from the bottom of my heart that I do not at any point in this rant mean to downplay the suffering of millions of people that have actual eating disorders, so please do not misunderstand me. However, I was shocked when I read this article on Yahoo! Health today.

The article was not entirely shocking, and probably partially true. I'm sure there are a lot of people that use food in a variety of unhealthy ways to try to assert some element of control over their lives. In fact, there are several categories of eating disorders that are already generally defined as such. I empathize with the people that are dealing with anything of that nature and, again, do not intend to minimize their suffering. However, I'm appalled and disappointed at the some of the definitions and explanations of what the article refers to as "orthorexia."

One of the things that upset me was this particular phrasing, "[Orthorexics] may start by eliminating processed foods, anything with artificial colorings or flavorings as well as foods that have come into contact with pesticides." Wait. What?? So now people that don't make a habit of eating at McDonald's twice a week, people that try to avoid chemical additives in food, and people that purchase organic fruits and vegetables are on their way to developing a full-fledged eating disorder?? But wait, it gets more absurd. According to the article, for people with orthorexia "the focus isn’t on losing weight. Instead, sufferers increasingly restrict their diets to foods they consider pure, natural and healthful." Stop. Really? Sufferers?? So now people that are conscious of eating food that is actually beneficial to their bodies are suffering? Wow.

This author needs a better grasp on what she is writing about before publishing her article. Pegging these behaviors as "unhealthy" is irresponsible at best. This is not to say that there aren't people that take the idea of healthy, natural eating too far. I'm not trying to say that this problem doesn't exist in a select few. My discord with the author is in the explanations she gives. Her descriptions are so vague that not only is there potential for misinterpretation of the material, it's inevitable. In a society where the majority of people do not even consider the things they eat and how it will affect them, positively or negatively, no one needs encouragement to further distance themselves from healthy eating or to shun the (growing) minority that actually are interested in it.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I am one of these "natural and healthful" eaters. And I absolutely do not consider myself to have an eating disorder. Without going into the (extensive) reasoning behind it and without passing judgement on anyone who chooses to eat differently than I do, I describe my behavior and habits as attempting to make choices in favor of natural, non-processed foods whenever possible and only slightly inconvenient. I am not a fanatic. I do not preach to the masses about my "food faith." When asked about my choices, I politely explain in as few words as possible. I am not trying to lose weight (and have actually gained weight since changing my eating habits, much to my delight). I am not trying to change my life with my eating habits. I do not eat things I don't like or that don't taste good to me, just because they're healthy. If we were to go out to eat at a restaurant, my plate would not look much different than yours.

And yet, I am still criticized and ostracized at times for the choices I've made. Good and well-meaning (but very uninformed and misguided) friends that don't understand my choices have tried to suggest that I must being doing this because I'm trying to "assert control," "lose weight" or "be different." This is not only far from the truth, but eternally frustrating and hurtful. Which is why the article I read today rubbed me the wrong way. It's just the wrong perspective all over again.