We Won’t Speak of This Again, Right?

I know you all love what I did to my hair, but it really is jacked up, unfortunately. And it PAINS me to say that, because every other hair cut I’ve ever had has been that way, too. I can honestly say that I am the Bermuda Triangle of bad cuts, or something. These hair-butcherers flock to me. I have a super-secret target on my forehead, that they use with their super-squirrel decoder-scissors that smoke-signals them “It’s herrrrrr!! Butcher that one!!” and then I end up with this. My hair. Uncensored. Unstyled. (I apologize in advance, but you may want to hide your children from view. It’s THAT scary. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.)


As if that wasn’t horrifying enough, here are close-ups of the bad side vs the good side. See the difference?

This latest development, especially considering we’re so close to BlogHer, and I already have to shell out extra money for an extra hotel room (more on that later), this extra hair cut doesn’t necessarily leave me extra warm and fuzzy inside. {sigh}

Tell me it’s gonna be okay. I need a hug. Feed me chocolate that somehow, miraculously doesn’t cause me to gain weight, or something. I could use it right now. Just do me a favor – when I get it fixed, don’t ever mention to me the words “hair” and “cut” in the same sentence again, okay?

*Edit* Wa-la – fixed!

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