David Cassidy

About this time last year I made the momentous decision to cut off my hair. I went from a shoulder length bob to hair that was less than 1/2 long all over my head.

Oh, and I quit coloring my hair and went salt and pepper.

I absolutely loved it. Short and sassy, I could roll out of bed and look good. I kept my hair this way until early December when I was in Borders and the salestoad called me Sir. Yes, he thought I was a man. Now granted, I was wearing a dark green jacket that is similar to an outwoods-person style and for a chubby girl, I don't have a big chest - but I didn't think I looked like a man for crying out loud!

Within a week or to I decided to grow my hair out and continue coloring it. This decision wasn't based on this one incident, several times over the year I'd been named as my best friend's MOTHER and while he thought that was amusing, I was not smiling.



So my hair has been growing out for several months now and last week I looked in the mirror and saw David Cassidy. Yes, I now have David Cassidy, 1970's, big fluffy hair.

(breaking out into "I think I love you...")

Scary isn't it? Anyone who has suffered the pains of growing out hair knows exactly what I mean. It reaches that annoying length that its too short to pull back and too long to ignore. I'm constantly shoving it out of my eyes and, in short, its just tedious. What a girl goes through to have good hair. At this point I'm ready to shave it off and buy some wigs, it makes sense to me darn it.