Shorn...

Well, I did it.

My hair is GONE. Aaron gave me several chances to stop, but I told him, this was the deal, so he did it, and had an evil, inspired, slightly crazy grin on his face the whole time. Kept cackling. Crazy bastard. Lol...as for me, well, I totally freaked the eff out. I was actually in tears in the chair. He kept announcing to all the staring women in the salon, “It’s okay, she just cut ALL HER HAIR OFF, and HERE’S the PILE!!”

It’s SHORT. It’s way shorter than I’m happy with...I would never want to keep it this way. But it’s exactly how short it needs to be to get me through Spain with minimal hassle, and by the time I get back, in two months, I think it’s gonna look really cute.

That doesn’t change the fact that I was sitting there, under this friggin’ dryer, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face as I watched this guy sweep up this giant pile of my gorgeous, beautiful brown curls, fill a WHOLE stand-up dustpan with it, and DUMP IT IN THE TRASH. I felt like someone had just tossed my CHILD in the trash can. It was horrible. Don’t laugh if you can’t relate. I had a LOT of hair. I mean, it was bigger than many counties in this area, as I told a friend at work last week. Cutting it all off is like chopping off a piece of my identity...it IS my identity. People identify me as the girl with all the curly hair. Seriously!! They say that women who have extremely long hair go through a mourning period when they cut it short that is akin to what people go through when they lose a relative. No joke.

Like, you really need to insert an expletive every few words as you read this post to get a grasp of how devastated and freaked out I am right now. But my mother reads this blog, as do my students, so you gotta make that leap yourself.

He took a razor to the back. It sticks me in the neck. It’s bugging me.

No idea when I’ll have the guts to go out and see my friends. I think I’ll just hide out till I go on my trip. Well, not really, but that’s what I feel like doing. My friend Jenn has told me she’ll come help me put some color streaks into it tomorrow. (Yay!) TOTALLY not me, but neither is this haircut, so I might as well make it a little funky. It IS summer, after all.

Jenn came over to see how it looked tonight. Asked if she should bring anything. I told her a knife. A rope. Hemlock. A large rabid dog. A poisonous adder. Rat poison.

It took me two hours to really stop getting all weepy every time I looked in the mirror.

When my dad saw me, he said, “You look like Olivia!!” From SVU. God, I wish.

So anyway...if you see me in the next couple weeks, if you think it looks great, for God’s sake, TELL ME.

And if you think it doesn’t, for GOD’S SAKE, LIE!!!