Breaking up is hard to do

Last night I dreamt that I had a fabulous haircut.

The layering was perfect. I could feel the fabulous, elegant bob swishing as I turned my head. I felt beautiful.

I awoke with the realization that I have to break up with my stylist.

I've been going to the same guy for the last three or four years, and the same salon for six. There have been ups and downs, and I've considered breaking up before, but I like him, and it's in an easy location. Plus, it's a totally affordable place.

A couple years ago, I loved my hair (see below, featured with my nephew, who I no longer get to see).
It's tragic, really.

So the other day I accosted a woman in the elevator the other day for a salon recommendation. She had a fabulous haircut. And she turned out to have a posh British accent, which of course made her hair look even better.

What I didn't ask, though, as it seems a rather personal thing to ask a stranger, plus I didn't have enough time between floors, is whether or not she colors it. I need someone who does highlights nicely.

It's stressful, trying someone new out of the blue. Not to get all Rod Stewart on you, but we all know that the first cut is the deepest. (Sorry. I couldn't resist.)

On the one hand, it's just hair. On the other, it frames your face, and either brightens you up or pulls you down. I look pulled down. And being as pale as I am, winter does that enough in the first place. I feel positively beige.

Here's what I want: I want a not-snobby, not too grown-up salon, where I don't feel self-conscious arriving in my bubble-gum pink coat. I want someone who cuts well and does great color. I want lovely blonde highlights. I want them to be glowy. I want to feel pretty.

In other words, I want it to be like it was early on in our relationship.

And here's the thing. I know there are other good stylists at his salon. I like the one who did my hair for the wedding. But you can't break up with one and move on to another at the same place. I mean, I did that once there, but only because the woman I was going to gave me bangs I didn't ask for, and then denied that they were bangs.

If you have short hair in the front of your head, just cut by your stylist, they are bangs.

So in a fuck-you move, I chose another stylist at the same salon. But I felt totally justified in doing so.

In this case, I like him. I just feel like we're in a rut. It's the same old same old. The color I have now, it's just blah. The cut? Has no style. And he's good; I think he's just stopped bothering a whole lot.

You know, as I write, it occurs to me...Maybe he's over me? Maybe he's trying to make me break up with him?