second chance haircuts

This year my dear Vanessa triumphed in that she managed to successfully recreate the ideal haircut that, years ago, had resulted in the worst haircut of her life. Today I was able to accomplish the same feat. In Vanessa's case, the haircut was the infamous Winona Ryder Reality Bites haircut whose ease and, as they would say in the 18th c., artlessness, tempted so many of my own peers. Vanessa ended up with a mushroom, but this year she bravely cut her hair short again with gorgeous results. My bad haircut happened in 1986. I was going for some kind of sexy tousled long-layered deal (I know, I was too young to be thinking sexy, but what can I say). Instead, I got the closest haircut to a mullet I've ever had. She chopped the bangs way back into my head and feathered them, thinned out the hair radically and left the longest pieces at the nape of my neck, rather than cascading down my back. Anyway, I hadn't intended to go into today's haircut reclaiming my original vision, but I think that's what I got. And somehow I feel immensely gratified. It is as if, even though so many other things seem inordinately frustrating these days, the universe was able to right one tiny wrong, restoring a little bit of balance.