Get Shorty

I have family coming into town tomorrow. Vicky’s confirmation is Sunday. We’re having pictures taken at the end of the month for the new church directory.

What was my top priority yesterday? Get my summer haircut! I found a hairdresser in town that I like, but this was a step of faith if ever there was one.

Don’t ask me why I felt like I needed the change. I just did. This is the look I was going for. (Warning: I took this picture from the TV; paused the recording and shot the photo. High tech for me! Still lousy quality. That’s Jenny Shepherd from NCIS if you’re trying to place her.)


We came pretty close. My new hair whisperer knew better than to try to make my hair conform; she modified it enough that it can do what it wants with minor direction, which is the only way to avoid a long succession of bad hair days.

It wasn’t as well received as I wanted. The girls at the salon, of course, raved about how cute it is. Then I got home. Alex rode up on his bike and yelled to the entire neighborhood said, “Mom, what did you do? You look like a guy!”

No one for subtelty, that one. I keep telling him that’s a sign of ADHD, which he insists he does not have. Denial will get you every time.

Eric at least pretended to like it, and Vicky had the good sense to just say, “Ooh!” (I interpreted it as the kind of ‘ooh’ that means, “Wow, pretty!”)

Anyway, I’ll see about a picture sometime in the near future. I didn’t take any yesterday, and right now I have bed head. I forgot about short hair and bed head. Maybe I should take pictures to remind myself in the future, but they will not be posted on the blog. Sorry.

I’m not making any promises about the time frame. I have to finish cleaning the house, and I was reminded yesterday that I haven’t grocery shopped this pay period. Oh, yeah, and I have twelve hours or so of work in the next two days, plus science experiments. I think it’s time to get the bed head under control…

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