Terami.com Blog

This morning, I listened in slow motion as my mouth told the hairdresser to cuuuut eeet offffff. After taking the plunge from long to shoulder-length hair a few months ago, somehow the bravado to go short was less of a risk. We chop in baby steps around here, but chop, we do.

Which reminds me of the time I spontaneously cut off all my hair and gained 40 pounds.

So, as my hairdresser was mid cut, it dawned on me that I had asked for a Mrs. Brady 'do. At that point, it was too late. Although I quickly fantasized about gluing the severed hairs back to where they belonged, I had to resign myself to the commitment. To amuse myself, I began to roll words like "neat" and "kooky" to see if I could pull them off. I couldn't.

The panic and lip biting set in as I steadily became buried in little shards of my old tresses. Dammit. Undo. Delete. Apple Z.

I'm such a doodypants. Why why why, with the cutting?

The upside of the whole situation is that now the back of my neck is fun to touch. Not that this is a solicitation for touching. But, really. You should touch the back of my neck. It's very fun. To touch. Just don't let the front tendrils of Mrs. Brady hair grab you like lobster claws first. Cuz they're vicious like that. And just a wee bit hungry...probably for a casserole.