The Short Cut

"Wot did you do to 'ur hair?"

Sadly, I can't type in dialects. Sweeney Todd, speaks in one. Moroccan, to be precise. He actually sounds a bit like Fronk in Father of the Bride, only more, well, Moroccan.

Last Saturday, I was called two hours before The Audition to go audition.

I live on Staten Island... The Audition was down on 6th and 23rd. I had to race to get there, including showering, dressing and doing something with my, by that point, growing out of control hair.

I've never had good hair... it's curly, fine, meh hair. Since the cancer thing, it's only gotten worse, causing me to want to pull it out....but, that would only make a bad problem worse, therefore, it's grown longer and longer...the humidity here helps it stay curly and I discovered hats.

Those things have helped..... some.

I'm in the bathroom, my hair is wet... even with the mist in the air, I knew it wouldn't curl enough to make a difference.. it was going to....

Wave.

Lie there, waving at me, at the casting people, at the camera.

I had no choice. I picked up a pair of kitchen shears, and I whacked it. Chunks of hair fell into the sink, onto the counter, the floor, on my face. Wisps fluttered about as I measured as best I could, trying to do a sort of a razorish sliding motion with these dull kitchen scissors to 'pop' the hair shaft, the way Michelle did with her real razor when she last cut my hair back in the beginning of August.

With pomade and the large amount of moisture in the air, I curled.

Since then, I've not gone anywhere but the commercial itself, and there, the hair and makeup people smiled bravely, and did what they could with my mangled locks.

When you see me, on the MEGATRON, pretend my hair looks fab, okay? I mean, we are pretending I'm standing in my own living room, so, the hair should be a snap.

So, yesterday rolls around, and I take the 90 minute trek into the city to see Sweeney Todd.

Off came my hat....and the look on his face. Well, I felt ashamed.

"Wot did you do to 'ur hair?"

He circled me, picking up pieces, bits..... sighing.

In New York, I go to Astor Place to get my hair cut... I like it there. Chairs everywhere, cheap cuts, it's warm and cozy and Sweeney Todd is there.

He slaps a cape on me, still muttering. We joke about his accent, he tells me I have to write a check for a million dollars for the repair work he has to do...

....and he gets the razor out.

This is where the name comes from.... he will cut your hair with a good, sharp razor. Not too many hair cutters are proficient with a razor, which does give a completely different cut. Oh hair like mine it makes a world of difference.

He worked and worked and worked.

Muttered words, a sworn promise from me to never touch my hair again. Laughter over what I'd done.... " 'ur' lucky it's curly. Odderwise..."

He finished.

I have high cheekbones. Dark eyebrows. A dimple in my left cheek (upper one). I know all of this now, and so will you.

Why?

Because Mia Farrow in her film debut in Rosemary's Baby and I have the same haircut.


I've never had my hair this short in my life. People did stop on the street and tell me it was a great haircut.

I've never had that happen, either.

I do know Sweeney Todd told me I can now throw away my hats, " Dey won't be needed, ur hair looks so good!"

Maybe, but, I do need them, Sweeney, I do!!

My head is freezing.