Haircut

I got my hair cut last week. I mean, I really, really, got my hair cut. Above, I posted a before shot, taken several weeks ago (as you should be able to tell, by my burgeoning belly). My hair was the longest it had probably ever been, reaching somewhere near the center of my back. The problem with having hair this long is that it takes absolutely forever to blow dry, hardly holds a curl, and causes headaches when I try to put the whole mess up in a ponytail. Angela has a stylist that she has raved about, so when I decided it was time to at least trim my tresses, I called up this stylist to make an appointment. Many women spend years searching for a stylist who will look you straight in the face and say 'This is what you should do with your hair' based on lifestyle, face shape, and hair type. Luckily, this woman is 'that' kind of stylist. As soon as I sat down in her chair, she informed me that my current style wasn't very flattering, and recommended a drastically shorter 'sexy, swing-y' style, as she called it. With misgivings, I gave in, sure that Ammon wouldn't be pleased when he saw my much-shorter style that evening. Jennifer, the stylist, gathered my long hair at the nape of my neck, and proceeded to cut directly across the bottom. I glanced backward at the huge handful of hair she was placing in the garbage, and felt all blood drain directly from my face, settling somewhere in the vicinity of my kneecaps. After a quick wash, and many more snips of the scissors, this is what we ended up with. Although I was very nervous about it, I think it turned out well, and even Ammon grudgingly agreed "I guess it's kind of sexy".