I know that you didn't go look at that post like I told you to but let's go ahead and move on and pretend that you did what you were told.
Does this look familiar?
Anyway, I finally decided to do something about my bowling ball shaped, orange hard hat wearing head.
I went to Rolf's!
I told you my hair was bad!
Then I met Michelle. The lovely Michelle. She started with a consultation where she allowed me to complain and cry and rip at my hair before dragging me off to wash it. The scalp massage was what dreams are made of. When she finished and I wiped the drool from my chin, she went to work with the scissors and the razor.
She looks oh so serious here. At one point she looked at me and said, "One side of your hair is shorter than the other." I did my best to looked surprised, "Really, huh? That's weird." I didn't tell her I cut gaping uneven patches out of it a couple of days before. (Sorry, Michelle, I didn't know you that well and I wouldn't have been able stand the look of pity on your face had you known).
She snipped and chopped and sliced and when she was done I felt lighter, happier, and my hair was doing this really cool swingy thing when I turned my head.
I was feeling pretty groovy and was driving home when I noticed how great my hair smelled. I began swishing my hair back and forth kinda fast in order to smell it better and inadvertently swerved just a tad over into the other lane. Apparently the guy that honked at me didn't notice how cute my hair looked, nor did he acknowledge me when I pointed to my head and mouthed "Sorry, I was smelling my hair!".