yucky, useless layers, poking me in the face and flopping about pointlessly around my shoulders. all i needed was my mom jeans and a minivan strewn with cheerios and the image was complete. i couldn't take it -- my hair was killing me. okay, maybe not killing me, but certainly robbing me of much needed sleep. well, i guess if i didn't do something quickly and stop my endless yummering about it, maybe casey would have killed me, so i suppose the hair was, indeed, killing me... indirectly... hypothetically.
anyway...
20 minutes later, i look like this:
i brought in photos of my hair four years ago and joan from exsalonce was able to duplicate it using the shears a little and a razorcomb a lot. no, i don't look as fresh and firm as a thirty year old, but this chop did extend my shelf-life a little.
ahhhhhhh...
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