My hair is a disaster. Consistency and texture of a gorse bush on a cold hillside in winter.
I tend to leave it far too long, because i can't take watching the despair that overtakes hair care professionals as they wrestle with it. Don King, Slobodan Milosevic and the guy from Eraserhead are a few of the comparisons I've had.
Anytime I do find someone who can cope with it, they are almost always non-Irish, and, as soon as I've gotten on to first name terms with Karla, or Stefan, or whoever, they decided they've had enough of this economic zombie land and have gone home to Russia or Poland or wherever- although the last guy I really liked was from Croydon and has moved to Tipperary
High hopes for the current guy though - he's Korean, and it's a long way back............ plus he doesn't have that much English so I'm spared the 'going anywhere nice for your holidays?' stuff. They just chat to each other, with the occasional relevant hair related question. It's quite restful.
Those funny cars won't make the teardrops start/ but way up there is where she broke my heart