Hey, hive! I have an announcement to make!
That’s right! I’m PREGNANT! Just kidding. I got a haircut. Equally important news though. This is only tangentially wedding related, but I just had to post about it for reasons you’ll discover further down.
Throughout my life I’ve vacillated between long hair and short hair. I love dramatic haircuts, like Mrs. Mink, and I also am just too lazy to get my ass to a hair salon more than biennially. Once in high school a girl said to me, “I love your haircut!! Did you donate it?” And I was forced to say, “Um…no, actually. My hair was just dropped to the floor, swept aside and thrown out with the trash. But thanks for making me feel like an asshole.”
So that’s why, for the past six years, I’ve been growing my hair long, cutting it short, and donating my ponytails. I don’t think I’m God’s gift to kids with cancer or anything—I realize donating time, money, or blood would be far more helpful, but I do it because I’d be getting my hair cut anyway (and there’s no way I’m ever voluntarily having needles poked into me. Sorry).