I can’t remember why growing my hair out was a good idea. I do this every time. I remember wanting braids. I like those. But my hair is so gray, impossible to dye at this length and it’s just not very, I don’t know… me. I think I got tired of having to deal with getting it cut. I think I had this idea that my hair would be this beautiful silver color. Turns out that gray means gray and I think postponing it is the best plan of attack.
Tom won’t help me decide. He went to the school for perfect boyfriends where he was taught to never voice his opinions about whether dresses make people look fat or whether he likes my hair better long or short. It’s kind of a pain in the ass but I can completely understand his position. I am also having trouble convincing him that he should be my official hair cutter so I don’t have to deal with the trauma of the hair salon.
So my long hair days are numbered. I keep dreaming about the freeing feeling of short, floppy hair that fits in my scooter helmet better, takes less shampoo to wash, and is a piece of cake to turn any color I want. Yes, I will miss those braids. Maybe I’ll just buy one of those viking helmets with the braids attached. I’m sure all the Halloween stores are teaming with them right now.
If you remember why growing my hair out was a good idea, will you remind me?
I snuck out today and got some pumpkins. I wasn’t really for fun, honest. I needed pumpkin pictures for the book. I promise I didn’t have a lick of fun, even when they gathered up all the little human pumpkins for a hayride.