Rock n Roll

I decided a week or two ago that I needed to get my haircut. Surprisingly, I didn't think that thought, shrug my shoulders, and forget about it for the next, oh, year and a half. Instead, I took action. Granted, it took me a few weeks to act, but that's a vast improvement on a bunch of months. I made a bunch of phone phone calls and visits this weekend trying to find the best deal. (I am still poor, you know.) After I got the numbers, I then decided to...be indecisive! I spent nearly the entire weekend thinking AND saying, "I don't know. You think? I'm not sure. Maybe. I probably shouldn't. But then again. No. It's a waste of money. But it'll be so fun. Welllll, maybe I will." Trust me, I was the life of the party.

Yesterday, I chose to bite the bullet and make an appointment at the salon I got my hair cut at last year. They did a good job and I was pretty sure I could trust them. I walked in knowing that I wanted highlights and shorter hair and that was it. I figured I'd just basically have my same layered look, only shorter.

But then I got the most awesomely awesome stylist of the salon and all that conservative thought went right out the window. I picked out a shade much more blonde than I had envisioned and was then left alone with a book of hairstyles. Why did she do this? Was she deliberately trying to get me to pick something I might regret in the morning? The answer, "Yes."

Two hours later, I left with what can only be described as a rock-n-roll haircut. It's way edgier than anything I've ever had and far more bold than I am used to.

Here I am looking a tad demure and a tad tousled. Sexy!


Here is the profile with my naturally upturned nose that I can thank my dear, dear mother for.


Check out the back! All shaggy and straight and edgy!


And finally, here's the top of my head. See that look of love? Like a mother looking at her child? I'm looking at Parsnip. Not my iPod like many of you suspected.