Bad Hair Bad Bad Bad

Anyone who knows me knows I get frustrated with my hair. Always have, always will. I can only go so long before I have to DO something to it. Usually involving scissors. Sometimes chemicals. I have two aunts - one on my mother's side and one on my father's side - who went prematurely white headed when they were in their twenties. Beginning my life as a brunette, I came down with a very distinct and unattractive 'skunk' chunk when I was in my twenties. My hair, although there is a goodly amount of it, is very fine. A hairdresser once referred to it as "frog hair" in front of my daughter and she throws that one up in my face every chance she gets. The end result of all this hairidity (it's a PUN, people!) is that I a.) color my hair and b.) perm my hair and c.) only tolerate it until either a. or b. have run their course, then I resort to d.) scissors. Since my darling daughter is getting married next spring and my hair isn't prone to growing quickly, I've been threatened not to resort to d. This has caused a problem. I already did it. <sigh> Now we fast forward to this afternoon when I will be going to my faithful hairdresser to see if she can rescue the 'do'. I will be putting myself in her capable hands once more to return me to some form of myself that DH will be pleased with. (He is never ever pleased when afore mentioned scissors come out). Say a prayer...