As for the hair out the window...done it.  I was laying down in the backseat of my dad's van and i fell asleep.   I woke up with my hair out the window and the window shut.  Needless to say, i yelled pretty loudly when i tried to raise up.

That's an interesting theory!  I hadn't thought about the perception of the cat thinking the big hair was "puffing up".

No arguments from me regarding big cats.  As they say, you can take the animal out of the wild, but you can't take the wild out of the animal.  It is a shame that Roy was injured so badly, and on stage.  (I can't imagine the nightmares some of the audience must be suffering).  But is something good can come out of it, maybe the public is now more aware of the dangers of big cats, and fewer people will try to make them pets.

Oh what a nightmare.  I would never have paid her and I would have screamed my way up to management.  Another great example of why you want to be sure you are dealing with a long hair specialist that completely understands your goals whenever you go to a salon.

I hope you've fully recovered from the ordeal!

Eowyn;
I'm so sorry to hear of your experience at the salon.  It is amazing how some hairdressers feel empowered to do whatever they want to do, even when it is not what was requested.  Thank goodness hair does grow back!

And by the way.....WELCOME!

I saw the infomercial on those a couple weeks ago and I have to admit that even I, the skeptic of all time, am intrigued by the device.  I'll be looking forward to your review!  Sure will beat having to do dusting if it works as well as they say it does.

I could say that ANY of my haircuts as a boy were horror experiences. I always found it skin-crawlingly uncomfortable and degrading. Now I don't have to do it anymore and that's great.

The worst one had to be when I was 12 years old. This was the 70s so short back& sides were definitely out, even so my hair had got to about shoulder length. We'd moved house; before I'd had the misfortune (so I thought) to have a hairdresser for a neighbour. Now we lived in a strange small village where the hairdresser was rarely open after I got back from school. I thought it was great to have such long hair and was really proud of it. Think of the Rolling Stones circa 1969. I really didn't give a shit about what teachers at school said, or my grandparents, because it looked well cool.

The pressure was on though and I knew I'd have to submit sooner or later. What I never imagined was that my parents would assault me on Christmas Eve, of all days, and cut it off. They knew it was my least favourite thing of all. I thought they were making some kind of bad joke when they said: "Time for your Christmas present - a crewcut!"

I knew it was no joke when my dad barred the way to the back door. My mum had hold of my hair in both hands and was trying to wrench it out of my neck. I wriggled free and tried to get past my dad when I was suddenly reeling backwards with blackness before my eyes - he must have hit me in the face. Hands were back hold of my hair.  I was being shaken around like a rag doll and hit at the same time. I didn't know who was doing what. I was screaming. My sister was screaming for them to stop.

I wasn't a big or strong child, so it stopped when I did. I couldn't beat them. My dad cut it into a really awful lopsided bowl shape, in deathly silence. I was going to be a laughing stock for months with that.
I was ordered up to the bath to "wash that shit".

When they realised what they'd done, I heard my mum asking my dad if they'd done the right thing and he just sneered at her. I couldn't have imagined anything worse. I loved Christmas as much as any child and I couldn't understand why they had done something with such real hate. Only my sister stopped me from drowning myself in the bath.

Nine months later my mum walked out. I now know how bad their marriage had been for some time and I think they took out their frustration on me, easy target.

Why go into all this? Probably because it's nearly Xmas, which has never felt the same again.
As for trying to make me "presentable".... I haven't had a haircut since I left school. I have dreads to my waist and it's not been a barrier to becoming a personal and professional success in my 30s.
I'll still never forget what they did.

Merry Xmas to you all, be cool, be sweet.

Oh my, what a story, I literally have tears in my eyes.  What a horrible memory that is to live with.  You might want to consider though, that the experience may have contributed a great deal to your mother leaving that horrible man, which is an *excellent* thing.  Lord knows what might have happend if she hadn't.  Perhaps you unwittingly gave your mother the greatest Christmas present of all.

It's amazing how much our hair means to us and how we view it as adults is so affected by our experiences with it as children.  It sounds like both you and I love our long hair in large part because of being forced to wear it short against our wishes when we were kids.