This only happened 2 Million Years Ago.

My hair. It's a strange creature. Ever since I started having kids, it's gotten more and more coarse. And more and more wavy kinky. My husband lovingly refers to it as my "polar bear hair" and avoids cuddling with the head part of me.

Also, I'm sorta growing it out. Sorta. I don't want LONG hair. But I'm ready for the commitment of "longer than boy hair." I know. It's been 11 years. It was longish, once upon a time. Like, in high school. Then, right before Matt and I started dating, I chopped it all off in a "I need to be my own person" angst. I've never looked back. And I have loved it. Truly. And when it starts to get longish, it looks terrible.

But I have an amazing stylist, Nancy. And if I'd just go see her more often my hair wouldn't be such the bane of my existence. On my most recent trip, she took me from awful semi-mullet to this:

And yes, my hair has some fabulous purple in it. It's making me feel younger. And less "almost 30ish." And everyone needs more of that in their life, don't they?

I feel just about as sassy as I look.