Sunday, December 18, 2005

My short lived career as a hairdresser



You may be asking yourself why I am crying. Why would a young, happy girl with her life in front of her, at this joyous christmas season just days before being whisked off with her boyfriend to spend snow filled holidays in Chicago have her big blue eyes full of tears?

Why? Because I did THIS to my boyfriend:



I told him I didn't want to cut his hair. I didn't want anything to do with his electric razor so close to his neck. That'll teach him to trust me again. Thankfully I was the only one crying, choking on my tears surround by piles of his hair on the bathroom floor saying " I broke your head, I broke your head". He however just laughed and said, "it's only hair". Poor thing is going to have to not only meet my friends for the first time, but bare the cold Chicago winter with a friggin' hole in his hair.


But seriously, I broke my boyfriend's head. I am officially this season's worst girlfriend ever.

6 comments:

Danielle said...

That's so funny! I'm sorry to laugh at such a traumatic experience, but it was sweet of you to try. I can't stand when Adam asks me to do that either. It totally freaks me out and I get all nervous.

But don't fret. It will grow back after all, and I know that your sweet thing will not be judged by a missing chunk of hair.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I laughed so HARD! Soooooo cute! You for just being so cute and sad about it (and for messing it up in the first place) and him for just being lovely, cute, patient Stéphane. Bless you both, you little cuties...I'm still laughing...

Donny B said...

very punk.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry your tragic error is so funny! (But you knew that, or you wouldn't have posted it. Right?)

Anonymous said...

félicitations Lauren!
quel talent, tu vas faire concurrence aux plus grands coiffeurs du monde.
nous on a vu le resultat au nouvel an , je ne pensais pas que c'était réussi à ce point.
sinon,tres sympa ton blog, a+
cécile

Trish said...

This is hilarious. I love that you paused from your trauma and tears to chronicle the event with photos.