There was one very important thing that I forgot to do during the mad dash of errands and visits during my last two weeks in Northern California—get a haircut. Half thinking that I would be able to manage with my frizzy, dead-end do for the next two months, I managed to justify saving the money and ultimately slacked on making an appointment. Much to my disappointment, within a few hours of arriving in Fresno, California, I knew that I would not be able to fuss with my finicky hair for weeks on end, especially with sporadic shower and electrical outlet access.
Unimpressed with the Valley haircuts that I saw, I was worried to go to some random salon, knowing quite well that I could walk out with layers piled high or worse yet, a sneaky mullet that really only becomes apparent after you wash your hair the first time. Although relying on the sparse Yelp reviews for salons in Fresno was not ideal, the only other people I had to ask were Oshyan’s grandparents, both of who were well into their old people hair phase.
I went with the best rated salon in Fresno, Preen, which had a whopping 12 positive reviews. I was worried when my hairstylist started to talk about his migraines, complaining that one had started to come on that morning. Trying to be sympathetic, I told him about my mother’s migraines and asked if he got sensitivity to light. His response was even more unsettling—“Oh definitely. My vision gets all weird too. Like when I wake up in the morning, my vision gets strange before one comes on.” I was thinking to myself, “as in this morning?”
The hair cut went along fairly uneventful until it came to the bang section. I had side bangs previously and was just planning to trim them up and be on my merry way. But as he began to trim, they behaved less and less. Realizing it was going nowhere good real fast, I made a quick decision to suggest doing straight across bangs. After struggling with them for another ten minutes, we managed to settle on something that I could deal with. I wasn’t thrilled with what I had going; it was sort of a New York hipster bowl cut in the front. But I figured that it would probably look better once I softened them up through a wash or two.
The next day after spraying them down wet and drying them out again, I realized that I had gotten the perfect American road trip haircut. Whether my hair be up, down, or matted with camping dust, it is almost impossible for me not to look innocent.
Well, except maybe here…
I almost feel like I have a shield of protection going into the crazy backwoods towns of our country. If I need to crank up the cute, innocent factor, all I need to do is pull my ponytail high on my head. If I want to look young and cool, a funky colored ribbon tied just behind the bang line does the trick. Even the pictures of me hiking around Bryce Canyon with five-day dirty hair look uncannily wholesome and all American.
All I need is a cheer leading outfit, and I’m ready to be an extra on Friday Night Lights.