I cut all my hair off. Well, maybe not all of it, but a good deal. 5 or 6". It was just getting too straw-like and, well, blah. It took too long to take care of in the morning and it looked too serious and well, it just wasn't working for me. Plus, summer is a comin' and I won't want to deal this year.
So, chop chop.
I like it. I realize you're really mad that I have not yet included a photo, but my mom is in town (which is why I was able to go and get a haircut in the first place) and I'm slammed with work that I've been putting off in order to hang out with said mom.
The new 'do can be worn straight (as it is now) and curly (I'm assuming - we'll find out shortly), and it's very reminiscent of the haircut I sported when you first got to know me, but a bit trendier. (What? You haven't all been reading me for the past four years?!) At least, it's trendier now, at this very moment. Come tomorrow morning, it may be exactly the haircut I used to have.
The new 'do came with bonus compliments from the slightly-crazy Greek hairstylist who claimed I looked 25 or 26 and that the new cut takes years off that - which, I have to admit, it does. The only downer is that pregnancy, or some other dark force, caused my new hair growth to be so much darker than my normal summer blonde that he called the top colorist over for a consult. "This is natural!" the stylist exclaimed, pointing at my blonde ends.
"How'd that happen?!" inquired the colorist (who, by the way, just happened to look just like Lost's Hugo, but with better grooming habits).
They insisted I come back in two months for some color. I think the sun may have started doing that work for me by then, so we'll see. In the meantime, I apparently look like a skunk-version of a young-ish suburban soccer mom. But hot. Sorta.
Pictures, soon. I promise.