You Little Weasels!

Friends,

Never have I had such a torrent of emails and comment posts (well...2 comment posts...a torrent) as now, when there's promise of a hair cut gone bad.

Well, just so there's not too much excitement, I'll let you know that the only reason I haven't uploaded a picture is that I'm too shy to just take a head shot when I know that it's for people to see on this site. So you've got to wait till there's a shot with me in it but unaware that it's a shot that will be posted.

The Spanish hair cut: not the mullet disaster that it could have been but yet, avoiding that disaster, not so exciting. I'd say it is the hair cut of the tragic hero: so much potential for good and sought after with aspirations so high that if the cut didn't meet the vision, it was a failure. It needed only one small tragic flaw to bring it all to ruin. My flaw was to wimp out somewhat at the last minute and ask the hair dresser to make it "no muy drastico."

And thus I have feathering where I should have spiking. Basically I look like a lamb or like a late seventies housewife; I'm not sure which one yet as there are elements of both. I'm sure my siblings will help me decide.

But it's not that bad, just a bit boring.