Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I swore I would never do it again. I don't know why I never listen to myself. Anyway, now I'm bald, and I have no one to blame it on but myself.

Oh wait, that's a total lie. I can blame it on all those pains in the ass who can't just let people have long hair in peace. Just because my hair goes down to my waist doesn't mean I have to donate it, even if "it's such a nice thing to do." Do people know how unflattering it is when they see you and say "oh your hair's so long! Are you donating it?" Like the only reason I could possibly have for having long hair is so that I can then chop it off and ship it to some poor kid who doesn't have any. It's simply not possible that I actually like it that way. Oh, and the guilt trips, even if they begin "you have such lovely hair, you should donate it" - not much better.

Well I have now cut off 11" for the second time. I have watched 5 brown ponytails of my pride and joy (OK not really but I like my hair sometimes) get stuffed into ziploc bags before shipping them off to Florida to be glued to kids heads, or more realistically, sold for money. Oh, but the best part of this experience had to be when the night before the drastic cut, I was stopped on the street by a woman who works at Bumble to Bumble and asked if I wanted to be a hair model. Truly the icing on the irony cake.

Anyway, now my hair's short, though thankfully I seem to have mutant hair that grows quicker than Wolverine's fingernails so I imagine it'll be back into no time, much to the chagrin of many, I'm sure. I can't lie though, it does make both showering and going to the gym easier - two things I should probably be doing more of anyway.

OK, off to Bites to undo my hour at the gym. Moral of the story: don't let anyone talk you into charity. Charity sucks.