Within a few days it was apparent that my long hair was going to be a pain in the neck/ass while swimming laps. Every time I'd turn my head to breathe I'd get a mouthful of hair. Yes, I know there's this new-fangled invention called a bathing cap but I don't like like 'em. I don't even wear goggles in the pool. It's just me and my bathing suit.
Since the cap thing was not an option, I rectified the problem by scuttling on over to the local he-she trendy barbershop where I could get a cut for thirty bucks from (as it turned out) a chick with Munsters tattoos all over her arms. I may have mentioned that my table at the NY BeatleFest was next to none other than Eddie Munster. I'm now wondering if there is a connection between these events.
I told her I wanted to take two or three inches off so I could still throw it in a ponytail. She asked. "Just below the shoulder?" I said, "That would be fine." She picked up her scissors and started snipping away. Snip snip snip snip snip. I felt like I was in Edward Scissorhands' chair. Or better yet, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.
When I walked in, I looked something like this:
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And if I don't do the full blow-dry and add the hair products it looks exactly like this:
(Crap. I just outed my new camera - well, new in early June. I didn't mean to do that. I am working on a post about cameras which I will eventually finish and put up, along with all the posts about my recent shootings.)