Hair today, gone tomorrow

Google image

Google image

This photo is not actually me. I didn’t put a picture of my own bad haircut for fear of breaking any mirrors that might be within view of your computer screens. You’re welcome.

Have you ever had a time in your life when you realize how lucky you are to have said “I do” and landed that spouse and maybe a kid or two, before your body went to hell, and you got a haircut to match. The odds of a marriage proposal, much less the willingness of someone to procreate with you have gone from 70% to 1 in a million

With a few quick snips, and the words “I can’t do any more damage” from your hairstylist, you realize your life is about to change. Sure, you try to fix it, but with some cuts, time is the only thing that might heal the wound.

Within days, you realize why your husband cheats on you, your kids pretend they’re adopted, and the dog hides when you come home. Even your teenager, who would probably like the above hairstyle, thinks yours is ugly.

If this has happened, or is happening to you, it is not the end of the world. Believe it or not, there is a bright side of a bad haircut. For example:

You don’t have to buy a scary Halloween costume.

Your typical insecurities seem like nothing.

With the money you save by staying home more, you can buy some nice hats online.

Alright, I’m sure I’m not the only one who has had a really bad haircut, and misery loves company, so please share your stories, coping strategies, and maybe a little cyber-alcohol with me.


I have a secret. A few actually.

Sometimes I’ve written something so brilliant that I wait excitedly by the notifications, wondering who the lucky first reader will be. Although I don’t usually talk to myself in the comments about how good the writing is, except in this post, I do have some of those conversations in my head.

Another secret is that sometimes I have posters remorse so bad that I’ve published, trashed, republished, regretted, then wrote a new post because I felt guilty about how stupid the first one was, but I didn’t think it would be right to delete it again, so I hoped the first just wouldn’t get noticed.

Most of the time, I think something I write is good, but later I read it, and realize its stupid or the opposite happens.

Anyway, I guess I’m probably the only person who over analyzes their blog.

A series of unfortunate events (blatent plagiarism, I know)

That title could be referring to traumatic injuries, natural disasters, or really bad haircuts. More likely it is all reminiscent of a bedtime story, which one day I will probably tell. 

I was thinking of beginning it now, but the sky is so blue, and the warmth of this summer day has sucked the desire to write away from me. Koontz, my Mountain Dew, and the porch swing are calling me. 

Till we meet again…