I have different hair. It's not completely crazy, but it's also not a cut I've seen often. I have eyebrow-length bangs, longer-than-chin-length pieces that frame my face, and the rest is pretty short. I call it the Reverse Mullet because it's a party in the front and business in the back.
It's the kind of hair that made my grandma say, "Did the hairdresser MEAN to do that?" And then she booked an appointment for me to get my hair set (whatever that means) and took me out to buy a nice blouse and pair of slacks. Gotta love grandmas!
Oh, did I also mention that I FREAKING LOVE MY HAIR? Cause I do.
The other day I was at a pub with a friend and he commented on our server's hair, calling it "odd." It was a bit unusual - short, pixieish, bleached blond with electric blue chunks - but I liked it and told my friend I thought it was funky.
"Of course you think that. Your hair's odd, too."
I was instantly reminded of a dream I had the night before. For some reason I had to break into a fancy hotel room and steal something. I don't remember what I had to steal and I don't remember the reason behind the caper. I don't even remember who gave the order. I do remember thinking how if I got caught, I would undoubtedly be fired from my job.
So I clumsily broke into the hotel room and before I could exit the hotel, an alarm was sounded and everyone was on the look-out for me. As I crept past a security guard, I saw a description of me on his clipboard. Under hair it said "Layered and strange."
I told my friend about the dream and he laughed.
"See! Even YOU think your hair's odd!"
I think I might set him up with my grandma.