It was Crazy Hair Day at work. Naturally, my first instinct was to give myself a faux-hawk.

So yeah. That was rad. Taking it out tonight was not. I whimpered a lot little. And broke my brush. It was much like the makeover scene of Princess Diaries. We even looked the same when I finished.

I'm currently recuperating on the awfully yellow couch in my livingroom. To my right, there are dozens of bobby pins scattered across the floor, and to my left there's a gnarly, baseball-sized pile of hair pulled from my hairbrush. After TWO HOURS of combing and separating and brushing, I've decided that maybe backcombing is not the best skill to have.