So yesterday, a conversation between myself and Barbie struck a nerve to get my hair cut. Not just trimmed cut, but CUT CUT.
A little over a year ago, I had shopped my hair off to donate to lock of love. For the two years leading up to my wedding, I had been growing my hair out to have enough to do something fancy with. Once the wedding was over, I could not wait to get it cut off.
Well, I got it so short then that I was able to donate it and I had hopes of doing it again. As per my list of 101 things to do, I was supposed to cut it off and donate it again and I thought "why not now". Of course my hair wasn't as long as it was last time, so I knew it'd be a dramatic change this time around.
I did a little research online and determined that the style of hair I was going for is commonly called the "pixie hair cut". This morning I called and made an appointment and showed up at 12:00 ready for a fresh new look.
After sitting down in the chair I was sad to find out that there just wasn't enough hair for me to donate. I could then just get a trim or leave with all my hair in tact. The hair stylist put a little chunk of my hair into a pony tail and chopped (just to see if it'd be ten inches - it wasn't). Well at that point,t here was no turning back.
I would not classify my current look as "pixie" at all (perhaps he didn't see the full vision - which is maybe why he didn't think we could get my 10 inches) instead I'd regretfully say it fits more into the "mom" category.
Either way, I don't hate it. there are certain aspects I love and certain thinks I think I would have done differently. In the end, what's done is done, and it's just hair - it's bound to grow back.
OH! and since I had this vision of SUPER short boy hair, it was supposed to inspire me to put make up on every morning (to look more fem.). We'll see how that goes.


