Ever have one of those days when you wonder WHY a lightning bolt doesn't just come from the sky and kill you already? (Or, if you're like me, one of those lives.) My car is in the shop. I can not afford public transportation, my leg is too fucked up to walk a block let alone wherever I need to go, and my man is gone most of the time so I don't have the option of his car (and I don't know how to drive his motorcycle). So that's frustrating as it is. So I'm hanging out with my mother when she says she has to go get her hair cut and colored. I decided to tag along to the salon because I needed a trim. A TRIM. Well, unbeknownst to me, my hairdresser has quit. So I see this new girl, Tanya. I said, and I quote, "Just take a little off the ends and layer the top. I'm growing my bangs out." Tanya must be a SERIOUS over-achiever. Because an hour later, a FOOT of my hair was on the floor!!!!! 
I'm going to put white-blonde chunks in it before I DARE put a picture here, but I'm VERY angry right now. And I feel very weird now, and more self-conscious than usual, which is SERIOUSLY self-conscious to a point just short of agoraphobic.
I'm going to put white-blonde chunks in it before I DARE put a picture here, but I'm VERY angry right now. And I feel very weird now, and more self-conscious than usual, which is SERIOUSLY self-conscious to a point just short of agoraphobic.