Yesterday, I came home from the salon telling Karen I look like Mrs. Partridge and Dezi Arnaz's secret love child and as the day progressed I feared worse. I might be Kate Gosselin and Posh Spice's love child. Of course since it was the day of the bad hair cut we had to go to a dinner party. One of the guests quickly told me how cute my hair was and that it looks like Liza Minnelli. And I died. I am dead.
Liza's hair might be better because the front matches the back. Mine is a pixy in the back and weird long pieces in the front that don't really blend with the back. The back is buzzed really short at the bottom so there's no wiggle room for fixing unless I cut the front off. I am not really getting how this is a bob.
And now I need shirts with high collars to hide my hair because I'm not a hat, or a bow, or a barrette, or a headband, or a scarf person. I am a person who will complain about her hair for the next forever, though.