what seemingly normal skills did you never develop?

[csziggy]

43. My hair is too fine to have short unless it's very, very short

Which would not be flattering to my round head and face. As I said, having it short would mean going regularly to have it cut, which would mean going to a salon. I have reasons for hating hair salons.

First, as a child my Mom insisted on my hair being short and would drag me to a beautician's college for a cheap haircut. She always promised I could say how I wanted my hair cut, but what I didn't know was that she'd call ahead and tell them no matter what I said, they should cut my hair very short. As I got older I developed allergies to fragrances and everything in the salons was scented. By the time we left, I was crying from the desecration of my hair and sneezing from the stench of the place.

Finally when I got into high school Mom finally relented and left my hair alone. In fact, she was relieved to not have to spend the money to have it cut when I was so ungrateful. But for my high school graduation picture she insisted that I go to a salon so my hair would "look good." They trimmed it, curled it sprayed about three cans of lacquer on it to try to get the fine stuff to stay in place. Then they applied makeup - at my mother's insistence. I went directly from the salon to the photographer.

The pictures are somewhat impressive - the photographer managed to catch the fire in my eyes, LOL. Not only was I upset at having to go through the process and insults at the salon, for the first time in the history of our town, the photographer had decided that all the senior girls had to wear a frilly drape, rather than the plain velvet ones he'd previously used. I HATE frilly, always have. I was completely pissed and not one of the photos has me smiling. Some friends say the pictures have a certain energy in them they don't normally see in my - I suggest they should be happy they've never seen me so angry.

The finale to the day was when I went home and immediately took a shower to remove the artificial layers. Mom hit the roof - for the money she spent she wanted me to at least leave the hair and makeup for one day. No way in hell! I told her she'd have the photos forever, I wanted to get that crap off my face and out of my hair.