Chopper's Remorse.

So... I got my hair cut.

I don't know quite how I feel about it yet, other than I can't touch it a whole lot because when I feel how LITTLE hair I have now, it makes me feel like a boy, and then I want to cry.

My H says that he thinks it's very cute. That was the goal anyway.

I went in this afternoon, after work, and I told my stylist that I wanted a change. I wanted something shoulder-length, or a little longer, something bouncy and fun for summer, but I still wanted to be able to pull it back in a ponytail if I wanted to.

Well... I don't think I will be wearing it in a pony anytime soon, that's for sure. About halfway through the cut, I wanted to tell her to stop cutting, I was screaming "STOP!" in my head, but what would I have done then? I couldn't walk out of there with half of my head shoulder length and the other half one straight line at the nape of my neck. I think not. So, I let her keep going hoping that I would have more hair in the end than it looked like I did. This was not the case.

Here's my new hair cut (Remember: I'm going from hair halfway down my back, to this):




Mark made me smile. I was previously pouting at the camera.

On the upside, I'm sure it won't take nearly as long to take care of. I'm sure my washing and drying time will be nothing like it was before. Hopefully, I'll get used to it. If not, at least it will always grow back.