Join Me in Snarkville

If I could write sonnets, I would. If I had more money I’d donate it to him. If I didn’t think I’d scare him, I’d hug him. But alas, I thanked him tons and paid for my haircut and promised photos from the cruise.

So, you ought to know the before: The Before

Then there is the after: The After

A few more photos on at Flickr, in case you need better views.

Reactions thus far:

Prince: Love the color, that looks great — would like it a bit longer, though.

Duke: Mama, you cut your hair. (yes, I did, what do you think)  I think it is silly.  (Does that mean you like it?) Yes!!!

Queen Mum:  Isn’t that the haircut I gave you about age 10?  See I was right then too.  (Um, yes — fine — but that time you kept trying to making it even was another story entirely — feel better?)

Oh yes, it is “haircut day.”  I freely admit that I’m thrilled and excited and a little scared.

No, I have no idea what it will be when I’m done.  I’m throwing myself on the mercy of “My Guy” and hoping for the best.  When I called, I may have started with “We need to talk”  which could be good or bad, but fortunately, I firmly believe that my guy gets me.  I know he’ll understand when I say I want something fun and funky, that I don’t mean a mohawk in blue.  I’m fairly certain that when I say, I want to not have to fuss with it much, that I don’t mean, “I want it to look like I rolled out of bed” and mostly, when I say, “Just make me look good”  he knows that the style can not involve more than 10 minutes total fuss time.

So, I head off today, looking forward to my new style — which I’m 60% sure will be my old style in 2 weeks — because I’m not so good with new tricks.  I’m fairly certain that the gray is getting hidden.  Hopefully photos will appear tomorrow, if I’m not wearing a hat for a bit.