Oh, and just to clear something up, the rant about no one commenting on my hair was directed to my IRL friends. I went to Hockaday graduation last night to see my ikkle wooblets graduate, and I expected people to notice my hair. Even the people that read my blog and knew how important this was to me didn’t say a word until I deliberately asked them.

I need to be told that it looks okay, and I need to hear it often. All my life I’ve had long hair. I’ve even observed that my subconscious treats long hair as a sign of goodness in general, and short hair as a form of punishment. It used to be that if I was ever upset at someone, I’d dream about them with hacked-off hair.