Sheared

I wasn't aware that a half inch was a debatable unit of measurement. The last I checked, it was pretty concrete. All of my rulers agree anyway. So, you can imagine my surprise when I went to get a haircut last night, said, "Trim off a half inch," and then watched inch and a half chunks of my hair start falling to the floor in some sort of blond blizzard. As soon as she started cutting, I knew I was in trouble, but, really, what do you do at that point? It's not like I can say, "Hey there...that's a little more than half an inch!" I'd hate to end up with just one bald patch. You kind of just have to go with it. If I were braver, I would have complained about it and gotten the haircut for free or something, but alas...I'm a chicken.

It's sort of my own fault. I go to those really cheap chain stores to get my hair cut. I'm not willing to mess around at a cheap place for my hair color, so that one breaks the bank. I figure getting a really cheap haircut sort of helps make up for it. It usually works out pretty well for me - I have the kind of hair that's hard to mess up. (Though, apparantly, not impossible.)

I'm wearing extra heavy earrings today. It helps counteract the feeling that my head is going to float off my shoulders at any moment.

As I was walking out of my daughter's bedroom last night after tucking her in, she was kind enough to say, "Mom...you sort of look like Dad from the back."

*Thanks, sweetie.*