Shorn

I didn't mean to leave you for so long.

My family was in town and there were visits and things and dinners and things and things to think about.

I've cut my hair. My hair has not been this short in about 6 years. I had had short hair, in a gamine, pixie style (of some form) since about 1991 and mid length longer than that. And after I had both children, I felt that my hair no longer suited me, and I also fortuitously found the CHI straightening iron which helped me grow it out. And grow it out I did and for the first time in many many years (maybe 15 or so by that point) I had hair to my shoulders. And it was pretty. And it took a great deal of time and effort.

My hair is straightish. Meaning, there are quirks and kinks to it. Kind of a funny metaphor, dontcha think?

My hair, in it's natural state does not look like it has any particular style, so it took a lot of effort on my part to make it stylish. The right cut, the right blow out, the right CHI, product etc etc etc.

I liked it all straight and sexysleek and fancy, but it took a hell of a lot of work. I began to grow very weary of all of that during my triathlon training (because training means sweating means hair fixin').

So after about 6 months of pondering the pleasures of the pixie, I decided to up and head to Modesty Salon on the East Side and get my locks, already bobbed by this point, shorn. We worked, Sara and I, on getting the layers right and before long, I saw my old (meaning familiar, people) face. It was an odd and lovely moment.

It was me.

There I was. Stylish, sassy, smart hair, neck exposed in a sexy way and features set off nicely.

Women often cut their hair in times of change. After a break-up for example. While I've not broken up with anyone...well not really, I have had a few interesting shifts in my life, I've had to rethink things lately about life and career and vocation and ability. The outcome looks promising to me, and in any regard, I have an opinionated hairstyle to face the future with.

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