Hairy Dreams, We Meet Again

Ozzy Osbourne hair circa 2005(?)

Best haircut ever(!!!), April/May 2009
Stylist who did this has since resigned.
I'm desperately looking for her now.

Haircut too short for my liking because this god-
damn stylist just wouldn't listen to me, February 2010

Possibly because I talked incessantly about hair for the past few days much to the annoyance of the long-suffering souls on my Twitter feed and IRL, I had strange sepia-toned dreams last night about, you guess it, hair. Hair on my head. Hair on my body. Hair everywhere. All this navel-gazing about hair makes me realize how fairly conservative I am now about my hairstyle compared to, say, just six or seven years ago when I would dye half of it blonde or red or have it cut short enough so I can shape it violently disheveled onion-style. These days, it should be mermaid-looong, layered just so, with most of the frizziness under control. Maybe the trauma of all those bad haircuts and hairstyle misadventures reduces me to a timid mouse afraid to experiment again on how wild my follicles can get up to.

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