What does it mean to be a young, independent adult?

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

So I went and got my hair did today. I usually only get an inch or so taken off, and this spring I branched out and got some red highlights (causing a certain male friend to remark, "Why'd you put that red shit in your hair?" but I digress...)

Today I decided to go a little further. Feeling brave and downright philanthropic, I thought, why not donate my tresses to Locks of Love? I can do something new with the 'do and help mankind at the same time. It seems a small sacrifice, I mean, it's almost a foot of hair, but it does grow back. It's not like I had to sever my pinky finger or anything.

It's been a while since I've done something so drastic to my appearance. I forgot how much I despise huge changes to my hair and so have been sitting in my house with my shades drawn, bawling and dry-heaving. Sadly, I'm not overexaggerating for effect.

How is it I can keep calm over and recover gracefully from nearly any situation, but as soon as my shoulderblades are visible I have a psychological meltdown?