I know! I say this all the time. I’m hair obsessed. But this time is (slightly) different because I have been purposely putting off scheduling a cut and publicly shaming myself with grown out gray roots and a disheveled mop of hair. Such is the torture called growing ones hair out.
And what’s a girl’s best friend in these situations? Hats!
Things are getting desperate in Sizzleland. Why hasn’t my hair stylist called me back? So what if she just turned 30 and was probably partying in Vegas- I need her! (No seriously I’m kidding. She should really (
hurry up) have a good time and call me ( immedia te ly) when she gets back. Streets? You hear me?! I need you!)
I’m done growing my hair out. It blows and I can’t take the pressure. Besides, I’m not a long haired kind of girl. I’ve done that. Why do I keep saying I want to grow it out? Sizzle! Listen! You’re a short haired kind of gal. Embrace the short haired sassiness.
I’m ready to rock the short ‘do again.
“Rain happens into my room at night,/when there is so much time to miss you./Beautiful changes I’ve seen sometimes,/the clouds changing into reindeer and flying/to places clear of sorrow./Walking around./You know I’ve had enough of this trouble/following me high and low. Now it can go. . .”– Walking Around, The Innocence Mission