The Unkindest Cut

I've been thinking about getting my hair cut. Like, short. Like really short. Well, not that short. Chin-length, maybe.

I'm having trouble deciding, though. First of all I read that thing on J's blog about "things women need to know about men." Apparently women should never cut their hair never ever. Men like long hair a whole really lot and don't like short hair at all.

THEY DO? Oh my God really? Well then I'd better not cut my hair, right, because otherwise I'll be alone forever and I'll have to get a bunch of cats even more than the two I already have (yes in addition to the dogs oh my God I'm already the crazy pet lady!!!).

So it went in my head. Sanity prevailed, though. The Sunday wedding announcements are always helpful for moments like that. All kinds of people get married. Short-haired people, long-haired people, fat people, skinny people, young people, old people, ugly people, pretty people, black people, white people, purple-people-eater people.... (The word "people" has now lost all meaning for me.)

But then C reacted to my idea with the appalled horror most people would reserve for the announcement that, say, it might be fun to go out and eat some babies with barbecue sauce. (Yuck! Everybody knows babies taste better with gravy.)

I dunno. What do y'all think? To cut or not to cut?

For the record, bar-related concerns aren't an issue, because if you think I'm in there every morning fussing with each strand of hair for an hour, you're clearly not taking the ba--well...hm...actually, I've seen you there at BarBri with your perfectly coifed 'do and your manicured nails and flirty skirt and 4-inch heels.

Bitch.