Haircut 100
Hate to say it folks, but I think it's time for a little neatening up round Wondy's manor.
In English, that means: haircut!
*gulp*
Yes, I know. I usually cut my own hair. It's been a perfectly fine arrangement for four years now. But I'm starting to look like one of those bag ladies you see pushing round trolleys full of... erm - well, bags - and I have got to grab the bull by his pigtails and say to myself: No more. Sort it ahhht (in manner of a Mitchell brother).
And... Get a Life.
I'm not normally so forceful with myself - hence the reason I haven't been to a hairdresser for four years - but I hate looking in the mirror and seeing such a ratty mass atop my bonce. Things have got to change.
So... first paycheck I get, goes to Toni & Guy (or similar).
That's right, maybe in a few weeks I will drum up enough courage to get thee to the bitchiest snipper I can find, where I will act oblivious to the stares from the cornucopia of anorexic blonde nymphets who are looking down their noses at me and I will say: "Take off at least three inches, and don't spare the horses, my good woman/man".
I feel almost empowered already.
*sigh*
4 comments:
Perhaps I cannot stop you from chopping those gorgeous locks and, alas, a haircut is a great refresher of self. And so, I reccomend NO SHORTER THAN CHEST, but maybe some layers or something???
Ok, love, it's a deal - no shorter than bra strap and some layers - deal. That's all I wanted anyway - I always regret going for the full chop so I will not do it this time.
Actually, I am going to try and get it done tomorrow or Tuesday - once I get an idea in my head I just have to do it straight away. I'm quite impulsive, really.
And I like that about me.
You'll be the first to know how it goes down...
I am, of course, demanding photos. I know it will be gorgeous.
Well of course, I photo document everything this days, dotcha know! I booked in for 1pm today - so watch out world!
Argh.
Nervous now. Is it too early for a stiff brandy? (9.35 am)
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