"How about we just try it shoulder length?" asked the beautician, fingering Rachel's long tresses as they both stared into the mirror. "You know, get used to it, see if you want it shorter."
But Rachel, done with being a slave to her hair, insisted on the style she had Pinned: extremely short on the sides and back, with a curly tousled mop on top. I admit it, I had to turn away for the first cut, so scared was I that Rachel would freak out. Also, just yikes. She had a LOT of hair.
|Locks of Love material|
Rachel didn't freak out. She looks great and, more important, she feels great. Anyone else remember how liberating it is to just chop ALL of your hair off and have a fresh new style? I was tempted to try it myself, but then I remembered I no longer have the distinct jawline needed to carry off a short cut (never did, probably) and left the salon with my curls intact.
Brian is on an airplane right now, and I'm torn between going to sleep (because, hey, I'm tired - we had another grad party today, plus clothes shopping with Rachel) or staying up so I can use the power of my mind to keep his plane in the air.
That works, right? Tell me it works.
Brian's heading off on his all-expenses-paid trip to Israel, and I am left with absolutely no tech support whatsoever around here. Already this evening, I had to figure out two different tech-y things for myself. Maybe that's why Brian couldn't walk out that front door fast enough this morning. My neediness must be driving him away. That, and the fact that he is 18 and can't wait to start his own life. He's all grown up, is what it is.
Still, he was absolutely the cutest 2-year-old. THE CUTEST. And of course Google Photos chose to rub salt in my left-behind wounds by showing me photos from 9 years ago today - a day when apparently David and Brian got hold of the camera and photographed their Lego creations, photographs that include a giggling 9-year-old Brian lying under the bed and clowning at the camera.
Et tu, Google?