New 'Do's

Two of us got new hairdo's in the last week. And two of us were surprised by them.

Let's go in chronological order.

Last week, M decided that it was high time Max became less of a menace to the overall cleanliness of our house by losing some of his fur (and not through the natural means of shedding). I voted for taking him to a groomer, M voted for doing it himself.

M won. And on Saturday he tackled the job in the backyard. 2 sawhorses, 1 piece of plywood, a towel, a cat, some electric clippers, and M. What could go wrong?

I predicted calamity. Disaster. One or both of them ending up in an emergency room.

To my surprise, it all went well. Maybe it's because M has clippered his own hair for so many years, and all that experience makes him the perfect person to clipper a cat. Maybe it's because we borrowed my dad's really nice pet clippers that are designed to be pretty quiet so as not to spook the pet being clippered. Maybe it's because Max is, overall, a pretty laid-back cat. Or maybe it's because M had a death-grip around his neck for the entire process.

Probably all of the above.

Anyway, here's our very furry feline right before his hair appointment with Master Stylist M:


And here he is, near the end of his appointment, sans fur:

M, being the arteest that he is, left a little tuft of fur on the end of Max's tail. At first he claimed it was for artistic effect, but seeing as how he can't look at Max without cracking up I'm pretty sure it was for sheer comedic value.

Not to be outdone and hankering for a change of my own, I went ahead yesterday with something I have been considering for awhile and shocked the hell out of M when we both got home. Not that I ever run my hairstyle decisions past M before doing it, as he'd nix anything that doesn't involve waist-length rat's nest. I've surprised the boy too many times to count with different hairstyles over the years, but I do believe this one takes the cake.

Yup. Purple. Although in some lights it looks blue, in others pink, and sometimes you can't see it at all.

"Is it permanent?" asked he.
"Define 'permanent.'" replied I.

Sure, it'll fade, grow out and eventually get cut off. But for the most part, until then, it's purple.

M is less than thrilled, to put it mildly. But I? I. Love. It.

People I work with are shocked as hell, too. I've had this conversation about a million times since yesterday:
"I'd have never guessed you, of all people, would do something this radical with your hair." "Why?"
"Well, you're so conservative."
"Really? Because I'm not conservative in my thinking or my actions."
"That's true. But you look so conservative."
"Yeah, that's why I did it. I want to look how I feel."

Apparently, I feel purple.

Zozer thinks it's cool. This morning, in the car on the way to school, she was quiet for a while and then said, "Mommy?" "Yes, Zoe?" "I love your purple hair." "Me, too!"

When I was picking her up from school I had a brief conversation about it with one of her teachers and the mother of one of her classmates. As the two women walked away down the hall one of them said to the other wistfully, "I wish I had the guts to do that."

I'm glad I did. (Although, really, how much guts does it take? It's hair, for pete's sake. It'll grow out eventually.)