My bangs were annoying me last night.
So I cut them myself.
Which would have been fine, but then I cut 'em a little more.
And then I needed to even them out, so I cut a little more.
In short, it was a bit of a massacre.
Yet, strangely, I had/have no qualms about walking around in public looking like this. When I see myself in the mirror, I just chuckle a bit and move on. (In a bit of irony, I admitted this to beau, and his only response was I cut my hair last night too!)
I think back to a Bangs Massacre in the late 80s (the Big-Bang Era) when I refused to leave the house.
Why don't I care now?
Have I lost my vanity or have I lost my pride?
Toss-up.
But I guess a reduction in vanity or pride is a good thing, so I'm running with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment