[zoidberg]finally, i look as pretty as i feel![/zoidberg]

Back to mundane concerns for now.

I finally found a hairdresser who understands. Most of the time, you go in for your standard short pixie cut, and Ms/Mr Barbie Bouffant gives you what I like to call the thirty-something Aunt Trixie look, with the longish mullet-back and the absence of sideburns. You have to beg for texture, and convince her/him to go shorter (funny, they have no qualms about taking too much off when your hair is longer). Style is out of the question; you'll get a little gel or something, and then loads of hairspray (I detest hairspray), but you'll have to go home and survey the damage in your own mirror, after several showers, if you want to know what your haircut actually looks like.

Well today I was lucky enough to get Missy, a grrl with the cutest haircut I've ever seen (and she said she did it herself!), which I covet. She's not too shabby looking herself...in fact, rrrowr. Anyway, we went through the whole description of what I'd like done, what shorter, etc., and she gets it. Immediately. To do the things I want to do with my hair, spikey hip bed-head nonsense and all, she tells me how she will make it so I don't have to spend hours styling (not that I would do that anyhow). Yes. Go Missy, go! And that whole neckline fiasco from last time, I don't even have to break a sweat. Missy's on it. We got the texture, we got the razor cut, we got the funky style.

Tart me up and get me liquored, if I ain't ready for the bars.