Tag Archives: Bad Decisions
I have been trying to “trim the fat” in my budget by cutting down on personal indulgences. I’m being pretty stupid about it.
Rather than do what most people do when it’s time to tighten the purse strings, like getting rid of expensive cable channels. I decided that the best way to save money was to buy cheaper personal hygeine products. WTF, Tara? Yeah, because I want men to leave me the hell alone!
I made the decision to switch from pricy Pantene to the more wallet friendly Suave. I didn’t take a sniff before I bought a huge tub of it for like $0.69. Well, now I am regretting it. I can’t quite put my finger on the odor but the best way to describe what my hair smells like today is “angry mothballs”.
I am usually pretty nervous to do things that I think I can’t do well or have never done before without some assistance. When I moved to NYC after college I remember wasting so much time and energy worrying if I would be able to master the subway system. I already had a defeatist attitude before I had ever made any real attempt to understand it. It just seemed like this big maze that was out to destroy me. I explained my frustration to my best friend and she said, “Tara, do you understand how many morons there are in this city and how many of them have no problem with the subway? Don’t under estimate yourself.” I remind myself of that before I attempt things I think I can’t do on my own… such as filing my taxes, putting together a bookshelf or fixing a flat tire.
This past Thursday, using that sensibility I decided to cut me some bangs. Arming myself with nonsense and basing my prejudice on teenage experiences in Bergen County hair salons, I deduced that most people that cut hair are morons. I mean, how hard could it be to cut bangs? Denise at “Hair Affair” never seemed to have a problem with styling while talking about her boyfriend’s mother or her unsavory birth control methods. But you know what? It’s actually… it’s um, it’s really hard and I…uh, apologize to hair stylists out there that I …uh, um under estimated. My b!
Besides having to clip back the asymmetrical hair into tiny butterfly clips that makes me look like a Peach Pit extra circa 1997, I am reminded of my bravado every morning in the mirror. Sleep allows me to forget my mistake for seven hours until the harsh light of day when I am confronted with an unruly halo of champagne hair too short to be held back in a ponytail.
I believe the phrase “more balls than brains” is reserved for times like this.