(no subject)
I got a new haircut and it's horrible.
The picture I took to the guy was super cute, but now I look like the little dutch boy.
Shannon did a pretty awesome job "fixing" it, but it's still not my thing.
I went through the five stages of grief yesterday, from 4pm to 11pm:
Denial: "hey this is different. Oh, it's not that bad."
Anger: "That bastard made me look like a soccer mom."
Bargaining: "Shannon, I'll buy you dinner and cigarettes if you make this go away."
Depression: "Waaah, Waaaah, so ugly, blah blah blah." (We'll skip over that part.)
Acceptance: hair grows, fuck it, whatever.
Edit* I'm slowly getting used to it. Maybe it's not so bad after all.
The picture I took to the guy was super cute, but now I look like the little dutch boy.
Shannon did a pretty awesome job "fixing" it, but it's still not my thing.
I went through the five stages of grief yesterday, from 4pm to 11pm:
Denial: "hey this is different. Oh, it's not that bad."
Anger: "That bastard made me look like a soccer mom."
Bargaining: "Shannon, I'll buy you dinner and cigarettes if you make this go away."
Depression: "Waaah, Waaaah, so ugly, blah blah blah." (We'll skip over that part.)
Acceptance: hair grows, fuck it, whatever.
Edit* I'm slowly getting used to it. Maybe it's not so bad after all.