I need to vent.

I got my hair cut yesterday. If you don't remember, I got it cut a few days before Thanksgiving last year. And it is a big deal for me to get my hair cut more that twice a year (seriously!). I am lazy when it comes to my hair, so I get simple cuts. Mainly because my hair takes over and does what it wants to, and I just stand by hoping not to get lost in the abyss. Well, I was a little braver last time, and got a cut that I actually had to style. Like a REAL woman. Then four weeks passed, and it started to look like this.

Did I get my hair cut when I needed one? No. You know I've been a little preoccupied lately. Right?

So I waited.

And waited.

Had a break down about how much I hated my hair.

Waited.

Until finally my darling husband pushed me out the door and begged me to go, so I would quit whining.

Well, Now I need one of these.

I am scared to show my face.

The best thing that I can compare it to is this:

I would take the first picture over this look ANYday!

I went to the same girl who cut my hair last time and showed her the same picture. Why my hair is 19 3/4 inches shorter this time, I wish I could tell you.

While she was cutting she said stuff like (and I'm quoting her)

"There's just so much hair, I just keep cutting and cutting and cutting..."

"I don't know what to do next."

"Maybe if I cut a little bit more right here it won't be so poofy...and it will lay down better."

And her last resort to try to salvage what was left of my hair:

"Ok, I guess I'm going to have to thin it out, and see if that makes it look better."

Her response when she was finished:

"That looks better than before we started"

I could have choked her. But I stayed composed until I got in the car and called my husband and bawled. I might eventually show you a picture. But I don't think I'm quite ready for that emotionally.