I have a very weird loyalty to the lady who cuts my hair. Even though she never, never does what I ask her to. I'll say something like, "Nelly, do you know what would be great? If I had ba..." and before I can get the word "bangs" out she'll say (insert profoundly thick Russian accent here), "No, dahling, no. It won't be good for you, baby. I do very good for you. You will like. Be very cute." And then the exact opposite of the haircut I was thinking of will appear on my head in a matter of minutes.
Anyway, I've been angling for bangs and today I got them. And Nelly pretended it was her idea. But I didn't mind as long as I got them. However, I have never before -- nor will I ever again -- have a hairstyle so akin to a helmet as I do. A good washing should get rid of most of the hairspray and then I'll be golden. I think.
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