NEVER CROSS ME.

i love pinterest.  i loved it before it got popular to facebook about what you're pinteresting.  irritating.  but i can't bring myself to get rid of it.  here is mine, in case you were looking for it.  or in case i was supposed to give you the link 3 months ago, but forgot because i'm so. busy.

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did i ever tell you about the time my big sissy and i raced to grow our hair out.  BORRRINGGG.  we started in the beginning of 2009 when i lived in england.  and it took 2 YEARS. 

but i won.  because i'm the only one (i think out of my whole family) who actually tells the haircutter person what i really want.  everyone else (ahem, mom and sister) just goes, "oh, i just kind of want it maybe cut a little bit.  here and there?"  and, after a massive hack job, or even a perfect cut, "that's great, thanks!"

so every time we got haircuts (the rule was we could only cut it when we were together, which averaged out to about every 6 to 8 months) mine would look about the same as it did before the cut, and hers would be about 3 inches shorter.  wahaha. 

anyways.  mine was 12 inches in no time!  (only a year and a half) but i had to wait another 6 months so that pj's could be 12 inches too. 

and this is what it looked like:

and this is what happened when i rubbed it in that i was winning:

and for once, and probably the only time, pj came to the haircutter place with a picture and she told the haircutter what she wanted. 

and then this happened:

pj didn't say anything, so i had to. 

me:  um...it looks kind of mushroomy.  you might want to do something about that.  maybe it should be shorter?  or something?

haircutter:  NEVER CROSS ME!  I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!  THE REASON IT LOOKS LIKE THIS IS THAT I HAVE TO FIX ALL THE PROBLEMS FROM THE LAST MORON WHO CUT THESE OTHERWISE LOVELY LOCKS.

me:  um...that was you?

haircutter:  I WAS JUST TESTING YOU.  THIS IS PART OF THE PROCESS.
and here is what we ended up with:

forgive the photography skills on this one.  usually my self portraits are much more artistic.  only, pj was leaving and (as usual) didn't want her portrait taken (do i sound like an artist?) and as much as she probably didn't want to go on a gross, staph-inducing airplane, she probably wanted to get away from me after 10 straight days (or however long i followed her around and said irritating things) (as usual).

and this is what is looked like from the back:
nice

crazy:  (by accident)

THE END.