Monday afternoon haircut blogging

I hate getting my hair cut so much that I tend to wait two years between appointments. The last time I had my hair cut, I was working at Dillard's and I hadn't yet graduated college. And my hair was pretty dang short (I had it shorn off into the cute little soccer-mom bob in the summer of 2004), and I didn't look so good with short hair, so when it grew out, I just let it grow to make up for all the days it had been short.

But there comes a time in every strand's life when cutting is best for its health. So today I sat down in a trendy little boutique and had my hair layered to an ironic soundtrack of the Spice Girls and that song that goes, "Come on ride that train ... and ride it."

I can say without hesitation that it's the best $17 haircut I've ever gotten. (It was only that cheap because it was my first time at the salon, which is a pretty sweet deal because they will have forgotten me in two years when I decide to get my hair cut again.)

I give you the before and after photos, complete with MySpace-appropriate framing and expressions. (Note how I am looking stoically into the distance and never at the camera, for it might steal my soul!)


Hippie hair.


Bangs!

The rest of the day after you get your hair cut is always fun. Whatever products they use on you in the salon always make your hair smell like island fruit flowers, and that shit is shiny and cute all night. You have to enjoy it because when you wake up tomorrow and have to wash and style your hair in your own crappy products, it's going to look like ass.