help! my haircutter moved!

I've never been a whiz at styling my own hair, which is why one of the most important people in my life has always been my hairdresser!

When I first moved to New York, every time I went back to California, I actually went out of my way to get my hair cut at my old hairdresser ... until she left that salon.

And it took me about a year here in New York to find a guy who knew exactly how to tackle my hair. (I've got quite a thick head of hair. Every time I go to someone new, they obsess about how I have enough hair for three heads ... it's hot under here! Ha!)

Anyway, I loved going to visit my guy Tommy. I always walked in knowing I'd love how my hair looked and felt when I walked out. But after three years, he ended up moving across the country. For the longest time, I avoided calling the salon to find out if Tommy was really gone (and kept my hair in a ponytail — heehee!), but finally I decided it was time. I picked up the phone on Friday and got the bad news, and started my search for a new hairdresser.

I thought the best way to go was to go through recommendations, so my BFF told me about a place she loved, I made an appointment, and went in today.

I totally forgot about that nerve-wracking anticipation of meeting a new hairdresser and wanting to get along ... and wanting him to understand what I wanted. This new guy told me that my head wasn't suited for the cut I've had all this time ... and I thought, Sure, what the heck? As long as I'm trying a new guy, I might as well try a new look, right?

As he took the scissors to my hair and cut about six inches off the front, I almost screamed out loud! It got to the point where I just couldn't look. Halfway through, I almost couldn't take it anymore and felt my feet touch the ground and almost ran out the door! But I decided to let him do his thing (even though I bet even my hair follicles were shaking out of nervousness!!!). He took so much time and care that I thought, Okay, he must know what he's doing.

Finally, he picked up the mirror, and I was speechless. Not in a good way, not in a bad way. Just in a, "Whoa, that's different" way. I have side-swished bangs I didn't want and a mulletlike bottom. Then I looked again and thought, Well, it's basically the Friends Rachel cut from 10 years ago!