Hair-Brained

You know what I'm now addicted to? Short hair! I got my hair chopped again on Thursday, and man it feels good. Although, I kind-of look like a 12-year-old boy. When I got it done, the woman blow dried it and then straightened it (which I've never ever had done before), and it looked nice-ish then. Now, that I'm the one "doing" it (which, for me, means washing it and then brushing it and letting it dry and then maybe brushing it again), I look a bit like a small child. I'm afraid I may get carded the next time I try to go to a Rated R movie (I'll have to tell you about the last time that happened to me some other time), and I'm afraid Chris may get arrested for courting a minor...

It's funny because I used to be pretty concerned with having really long hair (end of high school into college). I remember trying to will it to grow. Back then, I thought that maybe it meant something to have long hair. But, you know what? Hair is hair: It means nothing. So why not try new things?

Here's how long my hair used to be:


Please also note Chris's long hair...



And so, here are the pics of me with my new short hair, as the hairdresser-lady did it:

Me giving you my best "Blue Steel" look...

Hello, you an call me Posh Spice.

Anyways, now my hair is still a bit traumatized from being straightened, so it's not quite doing it's normal puffy foofy thing it does, and I'm quite perplexed.

Internet, meet twelve-year-old boy Ryan:

And I know you're all wondering what ever happened to Sean from Boy Meets World... Well, at the very least, I can tell you were his hair went:

Nobody understands me and my 90's boy haircut...

So, despite my self-deprecating twelve-year-old boy jokes, I'm pretty happy with my short hair. It feels nice... and that means something.