Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...

Dixie managed to make it through her surgery successfully, and she gets to come home some time tomorrow. I'm scared for her to come home because our house is a very busy one, and she tends to get pretty excited and run around quite a bit. Having just had abdominal surgery, I'm sure it can't be too good for her to take flying leaps off the couch and try to jump up and kiss my nose every chance she gets. Clearly, we should sedate her. And everything around her. Sedation for everyone!

While my precious Little Muppy was under the knife, my afternoon class was cancelled. So, I did the only rational thing I could think to do. I went to a fancy-schmancy hair place in The Big City and had all my hair chopped off. Fourteen inches after it was braided, to be exact.



Here it is, a picture of my hair. As soon as the final snip was done, a woman in the salon burst into applause and everyone gave me encouraging smiles. The girl handed me the braid of hair, and I wanted to throw up because it was just so gross. It felt like some kind of dead rodent in my hands, and I was repulsed that A) it was seconds earlier HANGING OFF MY BODY and B) that someone would touch someone else's old, nasty, yucky, dead-rodent-feeling hair to make wigs out of. Brave souls, those wigmakers are.



Here, you'll see a pic of it from the back. LOOK HOW SHORT IT IS! I've been growing my hair for the past three years. I'm not sure why I started growing it: At first I wanted to see how long I could get it to go in three years. Then I was going to cut it, but it was my best friends' wedding. Then my mom got cancer, and I decided to donate it. It was a bit of a process, this hair growing thing, but I managed to see it through.



Here is the glorious side view. I took a head on one, but I'm not wearing makeup and no one needs to see THAT on the Internet. It is very, very short in the back (I'm talking, an inch and a half long) and goes to a few more inches than that in the front, on an angle, with longer angled bangs on the front.

I have to say that I absolutely LOVE this hair cut. I know that a lot of women are traumatized after losing their hair, they miss it and they feel awkward and they want it back. I say, the only way to cure that? TO GROW IT FOR THREE FRICKIN YEARS. By the time you've saved up enough money in your bank account to finally get it all cut off, you'll feel delightful. I feel about fifteen pounds lighter (Even though it kind of accentuates my giant head, and my face now looks sort of fat. Sigh. The Berry Queen suggested that my face does not look fat, just cheeky like a cute little chipmunk storing away peanuts for the winter time. Sigh.)

When I came home, I displayed the dead rodent feeling hair for my father to see, while Kami the Bird Dog leapt around the kitchen howling and trying to eat it. After I did that, I went out to get the horses, and Tia jumped and ran to my father. Following that, Copernicus stood on top of the fridge and howled for about ten minutes straight. I'm not sure what to make of the animals' reactions to my hair. I'm hoping they were jumping and howling their pleasure... but one can never be sure.

Now all I have to do is learn how to blow dry, straighten, and apply the perfect amount of product each morning.

Here's hoping.