I think its time.

You might remember my ramblings about the endless changes that have taken place to my not-so-goldilocks, by reading this entry. And if you never read it, go, hurry, catch up, we'll wait...

...I've since left my hair alone. Have you ever left your hair alone for 5 months? Because its just as bad as the opposite. Finally, finally, I got around to recoloring it black. I did have an excuse for waiting so long, also known as pregnancy, but whatever the reason is, excuses aside, having blah hair makes me feel like crap. So now that I've got the color done (which looks a jazillion times better by the way), I've got to get a cut. A real cut. The kind of cut that you get when you go into a place and sit down and they do it for you. Not the kind that I try to manage myself while hovering uncomfortably over my bathroom sink, resulting in tears and uneven "hipster" edges and layers. I'm honestly not trying to be hip (we all say that right), I'm just a super cool lady on a budget trying to do herself a favor by saving a few bucks, but really ruining her hair for the next year of her life. And sometimes I talk about myself like I'm not here, if you haven't noticed. Anyways, my Grammy sent me $20 in the mail (YES!) as a Christmas in July gift (a silly tradition that my California family takes part in year after year), and I'm going to take it down to an actual hair salon, not a beauty school, and get my hair did. I am. I swear. ...I will. *Looks over shoulder at scissors*.

Image: "Lemon Lime Hair Comb", by RedaretheRoses, $10.00.