I only get my hair cut when my out-of-town friend comes to town. She knows I’m horrible at getting these things done so she insists upon it. It’s great. She just needs to come to town more often. It’s only been since July.

But guess what? The hairdresser wouldn’t cut my hair! All that shaggyness and she would not cut it! Why? Because “I want to grow it out.” My famous last words. I love my hair dresser. She tells me like it is. She could have chopped my hair this way and that but she told me I wouldn’t be happy. I’m a mom and I need to be able to put my hair back. So unless I’m going to chop it super short, there’s no point in cutting layers that will only be just as wavy and frizzy as what I have now. She trimmed the back and styled it fancy like a movie star but other than that she didn’t do much. But in a way she did a lot because now I don’t have to wait another six months for those layers I wanted to grow out. I’m happy with my non-haircut. I just needed an expert to tell me my hair is fine the way it is. Except somebody needs to stop me when I put it in that horrible rooster tail bun on top of my head.

My hairdresser is growing her hair out too so we commiserated over how much we hate our giant long bangs that always flop into our face and irritate our eyes. There is no easy way to get through the “growing it out” stage. You can clip it back or just suck it up and deal with it. For now we’re both dealing with it. It’s silly really because as soon as I get my hair nice and long, I know I’m just going to chop it all off again. I like change.

I also included some pictures of cupcakes from Sprinkles, cause I’m mean and I want you to drool all over your keyboard. But you gotta take out-of-town friends to Sprinkles. It’s mandatory!