(no subject)
I got a hair cut. I sat in the hair place for two hours, since I dunno why. It just took my family that long. As I sat there, I styled and re-styled my hair, and finally discovered this really thick pomade that is the only stuff that can even touch my hair and not disintigrate. Originally, it was designed to be spiked tall in front and short in back, but since I can't spike my hair.... Anyways, as I sit there, I get repeatedly mocked for my failed attempts at spiking this mass of thick hair, as it really was funny, but after a good half hour of failure, I get a workable style. And the stylist likes it, and my mother likes it, even my sister, who hates anything I do, likes it. So in my arrogance, I begin to think MAYBE, just maybe, I didn't fuck up this time. That's what I get for thinking. Photos in a few.