I had a haircut today. For many years, Eric cut my hair, but now that we’re juggling jobs and nursery hours etc, it’s hard to find the time for it in the evenings. So for the past half-year or so, I have been going to professional hairdressers. I don’t have a favourite one, because I haven’t stood still long enough to find one (we have moved home twice and moved office once during the past year) and because I haven’t been sufficiently satisfied with any I’ve tried.

They all do some things the same and some things differently. One thing they all like is to put stuff in my hair when they’re done cutting and drying it. I’ve generally let them do it, even though I am not particularly interested, because it’s less bother than trying to explain it.

I can generally agree with their opinion that the stuff makes my hair look better (on some scale) or at least different. But that positive effect is by far outbalanced by how unpleasant the stuff feels. Sometimes it just feels slightly less soft, other times (like today) it’s stiff, sticky, positively disgusting to touch. I bet it smells as well.

Putting goo in your hair makes sense if you only interact with your hair by looking at it, or having other people look at it. But since I also like to touch my hair, to pull my fingers through it, to scratch the back of my neck, and to put my head on a pillow next to Eric’s face without having to worry about it stinking… I’m washing this stuff out before I go to bed, and I really will insist on no goo the next time I have a haircut.