The Non-Haircut

I only get my hair cut when my out-of-town friend comes to town. She knows I’m horrible at getting these things done so she insists upon it. It’s great. She just needs to come to town more often. It’s only been since July.

But guess what? The hairdresser wouldn’t cut my hair! All that shaggyness and she would not cut it! Why? Because “I want to grow it out.” My famous last words. I love my hair dresser. She tells me like it is. She could have chopped my hair this way and that but she told me I wouldn’t be happy. I’m a mom and I need to be able to put my hair back. So unless I’m going to chop it super short, there’s no point in cutting layers that will only be just as wavy and frizzy as what I have now. She trimmed the back and styled it fancy like a movie star but other than that she didn’t do much. But in a way she did a lot because now I don’t have to wait another six months for those layers I wanted to grow out. I’m happy with my non-haircut. I just needed an expert to tell me my hair is fine the way it is. Except somebody needs to stop me when I put it in that horrible rooster tail bun on top of my head.

My hairdresser is growing her hair out too so we commiserated over how much we hate our giant long bangs that always flop into our face and irritate our eyes. There is no easy way to get through the “growing it out” stage. You can clip it back or just suck it up and deal with it. For now we’re both dealing with it. It’s silly really because as soon as I get my hair nice and long, I know I’m just going to chop it all off again. I like change.

I also included some pictures of cupcakes from Sprinkles, cause I’m mean and I want you to drool all over your keyboard. But you gotta take out-of-town friends to Sprinkles. It’s mandatory!

punk bath

I didn’t think Toby was going to let me put these pictures on my blog but they magically showed up on my desktop the other day so I’m interpreting that as permission. I figure they’re grainy and I’m naming them by a number instead of the obvious name, so hopefully that will keep google image searches off them. I love google and I hate google at the same time. Mostly I just hate the myspacers who steal my images via google image searches. But that’s another blog post.

Toby took these shots. You can tell because they are taken at night and Baby Bug isn’t completely blasted by a flash. Toby is a professional photographer and he has the big fancy camera that can do tricks like that. The spy cam is not so tricky.

Speaking of Toby…. Remember how he’s hating all the pink pink pink all the time? Well, today he said that if I found him a pink striped shirt (with other colors like brown or green…), he would wear it on the day of the party. Can you believe that?!!!! He must be delirious or maybe I’m wearing him down. Either way, I think I just might have to take him up on that. Any suggestions Whoorl?