Haircuts have become a very traumatic part of my life. Up until about the past two years, I'd go get my hairs cut and then everything would be be-bopping wonderful but then it wasn't. And then I got a haircut that made me cry. And then I got a great haircut. And then I got my haircut today. This is a verge of tears haircut. I was going to take a picture of it down, but it depressed me too much. I think it might be a metaphor for... something. I'll recover eventually, so please do not feel too sorry for me, and don't mention my hair when you see me. I'd rather not talk about it.
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