So do you remember that battle we were having for the stupidest hair? Well, today I take gold, my friends. I'm having a hair tantrum. It's really bad, people. I couldn't get the layers to curl under at all this morning. No my hair is sticking out in 90 degree angles. I wish I was exaggerating. But alas, the proof is in the
Oh. And did I mention I have a zit the size of a pencil eraser? Yeah, you're not seeing a picture of that. Trust me, you don't want to.
So here is the conundrum:
I wanted to grow out my hair because Andrew likes it long (what guy doesn't?) and I'm told there are wedding bells in my future. I never imagined myself walking down the aisle with a choppy short frisky hairdo. But you know what? I think that is just what I'm going to do.
I called Andrew telling him about my hair issues this morning.
Me: I'm having a hair conundrum.
Andrew: A what?
Me: Hair conundrum!
Andrew: Hair tantrum?
Me: [laughing] That's not what I said, but it actually works. Yes. Hair tantrum. It is sticking out in a 90 angle. I look so dumb.
Andrew: Where are you?
Me: In my office! Looking dumb in my office! [pause] I think I want a haircut.
Andrew: Are you asking my permission to get a hair cut? Honey! What happened to being an independent woman?
Me: But you like it long! You want me to grow it out!
Andrew: I never said that.
Me: I just want to look nice.
Andrew: Well it doesn't sound like that's working.
So anyhow, I am going to call it quits on this "grow out my hair" business. My hair was long my entire life--until a year ago. And I've never felt more "me" than I do with my funky choppy frisky Mandy Moore haircut.
That is all.