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Aug. 18th, 2005 12:25 am
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Cutting Steve's hair is always this weird combination of I-know-what-I'm-doing and OH-MY-GOD-I-screwed-it-up! To be honest, I prefer to cut his hair vs. take him to a salon, because the last time he went to Supercuts or whatever it is up here, they cut it WAAY too short, and it looked really odd for awhile (and, er, the first few times he cut his hair as well)(and before you start thinking Steve must look very odd when I cut his hair, let me tell you his mother taught me to cut his hair, and I've just improved with monthly practice).

I extended my hair-cutting to my own, because I trust not the scurvy wielders of scissors that take money for chopping off my hair. I prefer my hair long, but every time I go to a hairdresser, it's the same. "What beautiful hair you haveLETSCHOPITOFF." Short haircuts may suit other people, but myself... the last time I had a short haircut, I cried for days and refused to take off a hat for a month. I know everyone has horrible hair stories, but this... this was "I want an inch taken off the bottom and trimmed about my face" and reality had me looking like a very shaggy Rosie O'Donnell impersonator. Then there was also the Time of the Mushroom Cloud, where the top layers were short, and the bottom layers were down to mid-back. The hairdresser curled the hair on top under, and the hair at the bottom out, so it had this mushroom cloud look. Oh boy, Hiroshima here I come!

So eventually, it became a defense mechanism. "I'm going to grow my hair long because I fear you people will screw it up" type of mechanism. I'm sure I've made some mistakes that would make a hairdresser cringe, because I cut some whispies about my face, but it beats going to the salon and explaining "one inch = one inch, not half a foot", and it suits me just fine. I would rather make a few minor mistakes myself than run screaming from the hairdresser.

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Jul. 27th, 2005 12:30 am
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I cut off four inches of my hair tonight. The last of the red that I dyed it with two years ago is gone.


Jun. 28th, 2005 09:07 pm
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I want to cut all my hair off!

It's currently still mid-back, but this sweat and heat and humidity is getting to me. I want to chop it all off, even though I know I probably would hate it, much as I did the LAST time I chopped it off.

But man, the heat... oh the heat. And my hair gets soaked and then soaks my shirt and... Gr.

Also, Al Franken, while throwing mud back at the Republicans and in general contributing to mud-slinging by pointing out their smallest falsities, is a god among writers. I think I actually cackled today.


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