haircut hangover

truly shitty day.

cramps.

electric bill overdue.

dad called to ask if we can "talk" about my future. i will inevitably wind up disappointing my dad and yelling and being lectured to and hating myself and then making up and crying and all that dense heartfelt stuff. not in the mood to do this. can we please reschedule this talk when i'm busy being marginally successful at the next phase in my life?

haircut hangover. my hair is roughly 7 inches shorter than it was yesterday and the initial euphoric mental hysteria that swaddles a new haircut is quickly ending. do i look like a mom? do i look 18 going on 45? do i look like i'm wearing romeo's wig? aye, me!

when asked what i wanted, i said "please cut off at least 5 inches. i have thin as a pin hair and it lies flat. can i get volume somehow? oh yeah, and please don't shave the back of my neck, it's a pain in the ass to grow out. maybe below my ears? kind of edgy. messy! unkempt. yeah, like youthful, like an artist, but not lesbionic. cute. sweet. wild child hair."

the messy disrepair of viv albertine, circa 1979, coupled with the innocence of jackie o's bob! i need to be that person!

girl haircuts are more about personal philosophy than general grooming.