Thursday, July 17, 2008

hair cutty.

I got my hair cut at a fancy pants place today. It looks about as good as had I done it myself, which is what I have been doing since I was a freshman in high school and too punk rock to go to a hair cutting place. When I became a senior, I decided at the urging of my certain people and to the horror of my trainer (hunter riders have a strict dress code and part of it is to have your long flowing hair pulled over your ears and tucked under your helmet), to cut it all off to about 1 inch in length. Now in retrospect, when I see photos of it, it didn't look bad. BUT. At the time, I hated, hated, hated it. I already had a tom boy complex and that hair cut made me feel even less feminine and at even more of a loss with regards to understanding that it was okay to be a girl and like girly things, no matter what I had been told by certain rather influential people. That was the last time I paid anyone to cut my hair.

In other news, all my aunts are here plus one cousin. Amazing! If it weren't such a giant pain in the bottom and if I weren't dreading the actual day more than I dread visits to the doctor (more than visits to the special lady doctor, even!), I would have a wedding every year!