Again, non-relationship stuff . . .

The thing about being cash-poor is I have to make decisions and choices that probably don’t occur to most people who have jobs, careers, paychecks.  As I am quite vain, this causes me heartache at times.

Case in point: my hair.  My hair is . . . bad.

It’s mostly straight, longer than shoulder length, so I don’t have to do much to it.  Except color.

I last had my color done this summer.  A three hour three color process.  It costs a fortune.  It looked beautiful.  It even faded well.  The last few weeks, it’s been looking bad.  It’s been looking bad enough that my girlfriend Hot Blonde, who owns one of the best salons in our town (if not the best), with a nationwide reputation, booked an appointment for me on her phone when HB C and I were at dinner last Friday.

When they called to confirm, I realized it would looking like another really expensive appointment (for color, partial highlights, hair cut).  My budget: $100 max, which I think I had told her.

My reaction: I cried.  A lot.  And then I texted C, who was the marketing director for the chic spa in town and speaks salon.  We figured out the cheapest way I could get my color done (that was not her and me in my bathroom with a box): all over color, no highlights, no hair cut.

Needless to say, the salon was surprised when I called and changed the appointment.  And I think HB will be pissed at me.  She’s aware of my circumstances, but I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.  I want to be able to pay for everything I have done.  I expect to pay $100 tomorrow.  I actually did a focus group so that I would have the cash to be able to do it.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  I used to be on a 5 week schedule, buying everything, exchanging makeup tips with makeup artists while my color processed because I was at sephora enough to pick up all the new, best things.

We never thought those days would end.  Until the economy died, my company with it, and my career along with that.  (Perhaps this is too maudlin, but I feel trapped at the moment.)

Now, I am earning money I am not getting paid in a dispute with BP, my business partner, and former beau.  He’d rather keep me impoverished and stressed out in the interim before these things close.

He’s a colossal ass.

This is something everyone is upset about, especially me.  If I could figure out a way of getting out of it, a way through it without sacrificing all the work I’ve already done, I would.

So, tomorrow, I will be taking the bus for an hour to get to HB’s salon in the midtown district.  I will sit in her chair and try not to cry.  And I will leave looking like a normal person, rather than one who can no longer afford to look chic.

C’est la vie.

Of all of the things I could cry about, this seems so minor and yet it’s ruined my morning.  I have other problems.  This is something BFD had offered to do for me in August as a birthday present. (I passed as I could not even afford tip at the time at the spa/salon downtown we used to frequent.)  I could just get box color.  It’s was good enough for C and for PRX when times were tough for them this summer.

But, my future success actually depends on looking successful now, which is hard to do with really, really awful hair.  I will not have great hair.  No hair cut and a single process color means I will have to wear my hair in a chignon for business all the time.  I will have to flatiron it.  I will have to do things to it.  I will have to work harder to overcome meh hair.  That’s okay.  It’s what I can do for now and it’s preventing going through a damaging process with box color.

I know this is a luxury and that I should save this $100 for something else, but it feels necessary enough I am continuing to beat myself about it, even after I confirmed the appointment.