locks of love

Oh, hey. Right. My blog. God, I've missed you. It's been nearly a month since we talked. I think of you every night before I fall asleep in that sweet spot of the day. In the seconds where I am completely relaxed, every morsel of my body has stopped humming and is ready to recharge with some precious sleep AND THEN LIKE CLOCKWORK THE BABY SPRINGS AWAKE AND SHITS ON MY DREAMS.

So, what have I been doing? Well, I got a haircut. I probably hadn't seen a shiny sharp set of professional scissors in over a year. When you have bangs, you can totally get away with upkeep consisting of your Mom, kitchen shears, a chair on the deck and an old towel. With a few snickety snicks, the bangs are out of your eyes and you can see again for another few months. But then you let the bangs grow out and you then pin them and you grow the rest of your hair on and on because being pregnant is like being Rapunzel and your previously thin lank locks become worthy of their own Salon Selectives ad where you whip it over your shoulder 75 times and wink and ride a carousel horse all at the same time.

Then the baby comes and you keep your hair in a very high bun or ponytail that makes your scalp ache like a thousand dull bee stings, and oftentimes leave it in overnight then wake up to the saddest rats nest of knots ever composted on a human head. Rinse and repeat. Literally. So, having long hair becomes more of a nuisance and little hands are suddenly programmed to latch and yank. Having your hair pulled out by someone you put aside all your wants and needs for might be the worst shit ever. So, I cut it off. Here is the before shot:

Aaaand what it looked like after. (Disclaimer: this picture would have been a f*cking 1000 x easier to take had I not showered after I got home and quasi-ruined the styling job the stylist had done which was awesome and can never be replicated by my oafish hands. So, I took probably 15 pictures in the bathroom to show people my new haircut and this was the only one that wasn't so full of douche that it exploded.)

Fact: Last year I took a picture of myself at a similar angle and only then noticed, 33 years into my life, that one of my nostrils leans in like a collapsed barn door. 

{Addendum that makes me sound like a better person than I am: After my ponytail was hacksawed off, I realized it was long enough to serve a purpose. (Other than keeping it in a paper bag and creeping Nuv out by threatening to leave it under his pillow. It's my hair! It shouldn't have made him shudder & gag.) I mailed it to the BC Cancer Society to be used for a wig. I hope it helps keep someone's noggin warmer as they fight the very good fight against that dastardly disease that has affected me and pretty much everybody I know.}