A couple of weeks ago I had planned on getting a haircut because I really need one. I’m starting to get a little bushy on the sides since the girl who cut it last time didn’t know what the hell she was doing. She cut it so short that I was dangerously close to being mistaken for a boy. I wanted it short, but not that short. That was over a month ago and it’s grown out a bit since then. The sides and back are shaggy and need cleaning up.
That friday I drove an hour to pick up the mail and to make a deposit for my dad. While I was there I was going to stop by my mom’s hairdresser’s shop and see if she could fix it.
After running all of my errands I decided that since I was supposed to go with my sister to the trail ride/concert/party that Saturday night, I needed alcohol. I wasn’t actually going for the trail ride part, just the drinking & partying parts. Don’t misunderstand. I can ride. I just choose not to. Plus I’m so damn short that it takes a ladder or step stool just for me to get on a horse. Instead of humiliating myself I choose instead to Continue reading