much better.

I walked into the salon with my chopped-off mess, removed my baseball cap and, no kidding, everyone in the salon gasped audibly. There was head shaking. My guy came over and ran his fingers through the chopped-up mess and didn't seem worried.

I'd gotten, it seems, one of the technically worst haircuts ever seen. Proportions? Non-existant. I looked like I was losing my hair on the left side [not joking] it was chopped up so unevenly and so short, and I had a big DuranDuran bang that didn't belong anywhere. The before pictures I took [yes, Anonymous, I did take them, but you'll never see them] aren't even clear enough to see how bad it was.

But here are the after pictures. The pink is something I had done ages ago and there's still enough left to see it. [I do love it.]

The bang now makes sense in context with the hair, having been properly layered and angled into the rest of it. Everything else is pretty much Demi Moore in GI Jane, but on purpose this time. I don't look like a 6-year-old hacked at me with blunt scissors.

I can't explain why the same woman who gave my friend J a fabulous, perfectly suited to her, proportional and well-executed cut could mess up so badly on me. But I am grateful that my guy is good natured and likes a challenge. He actually said he was glad I had this done so that he could try super-short on me. That's my boy.

So now if you see me at Rhinebeck, you'll know it's actually me.

I'm off to cast on an Urchin in my handspun. I think my head will be colder this winter than usual. :-)