Banged and bemused.

I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now, but I couldn't find the words to tell you.

I've been banged against my will.

I sauntered in to my regular hair salon on Saturday, May 17. It was an unusually warm day. I was mentally and physically preparing myself for my first ever work trip. It was to be a week-long training in the sunny state of Florida. But you've heard me talk about that.

Basically, I trust this crazy lady. She's been chopping my hair into beautiful pieces of artwork for nearly two years. But when I sat down in her chair that day, I had no idea she would bang me without permission. And that's exactly what happened. She quietly murmured, "You had bangs, right? Man they're getting long." Of course, I did not have bangs before, and of course, she was asking me this AS she was gingerly chopping off the front half of my head of thick hair.

People like me cannot have bangs. Our hair is too thick and we have cowlicks that will not be tamed by any man or beast. I tried explaining this to her, and she looked at me like I was demented. There was nothing I could do except nervously try to accept it and tip well because I'm a chicken when it comes to being honest with someone's artwork (even if it's attached to my head).

So I'm stuck with this for a long time, as my hair grows excruciatingly slow. Notice the four points of varying bang lengths she graciously left me with.