shorn

Of hair that is. In a sort of science experiment gone mad, I decided to see what would happen if I didn't bother getting my really short hair cut for six months. Now that doesn't sound too wild, but you don't know my hair. Well! The results made even my hairdresser gasp today when I turned around and showed her the back of my head. I had somehow sprouted these enormous silver wings that while not looking too bad in front, appeared as if they were trying to escape out back but without a clue as to the direction for their emergency flight. Meanwhile, a disgruntled middle contingent of hair decided that they had had just about enough of this craziness and rose up en masse to leave. Yep, a whole section of hair had started curling upwards (I have naturally wavy hair) in the strangest-looking formation ever witnessed by any hair professional. I kid you not. That gasp I mentioned earlier was NOT just embellishment for comedic effect. It was a true, albeit horrified, appreciation for what my hair can do when left to its own devices. Snort. So, it finally came off today. My only regret is that I didn't think to take a photo first to show you just how rebellious my hair can be, and that I wasn't able to take a photo of the mounds of hair left on the floor. About three heads and six pounds worth! Well, that's what the hairdresser said. Who now regrets ever doubting me when I said my hair grows faster than the average person the first time I ended up in her shop. WAY faster. :)