Round Two! (ding ding) I'm too lazy to actually think of something clever to say, so let's just finish up the photo brigade of my follicular faux pas' and move on, shall we?
(in random order, because I can't figure out the chronology for 3 of these)
This photo is an embarassment trifecta for me: it not displays my freshman 15 (thank you, Jack Daniels and Southern Comfort!) and my newfound obsession with blond highlights, but it was also taken at a fraternity party held in the basement of a bar.
All greek letters (and my good friend Emily, whose eyes were closed in the photo) have been cropped out. Believe me- it's for the best.
You'll notice that I have yet to figure out how to hide my can't-miss-it-size-of-a-Buick-forehead. I'm still working on that one - in the interim, my nose is hard at work providing a balance.
This photo is one of those rare pictures where my natural hair color is documented for posterity. It's also quite short because after the highlights grew out, I chopped them off and started fresh. The mysterious eyeball is that of my dear friend Adam.
Also of note: I kept this halter to show to my children someday. It's made of plastic. Not pleather -- plastic. Like the stuff they make automobile seat patches out of. I plan on using it as the main prop in the "Don't Dress Like A Slut When You're Not Really Promiscuous at All: It May Get You a Job as Shot Girl, but It's Really Just False Advertising and That Makes Boys Angry."
Welcome to Senior Year - my hair was so long that it ran down my back, well below the shoulderblades. You can't see most of it in this shot, because I have smartly wrestled it into place with a cheap, plastic headband.
Gah - the forehead! What is my problem?!
The last photo is the only existing proof of what remains (to this day) as the haircut that ate Nashville. (a.k.a. the worst haircut I have ever gotten in my entire life) In a flash of momentary insanity, no doubt caused by my dislike for my surroundings, I went into a hair salon THAT WAS LOCATED IN A STRIP MALL and handed the stylist a photo of Neve Campbell's cute, chic, and swingy bob. What I got? What I got was the haircut every other crazy bitch in Tennessee had in 2001 and 2002 -- long pieces of hair in front, short and spiky (!) in the back.
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...
...
Ok, Blogger won't let me post the damn photo. No, I'm not conveniently making this up so that you won't see the haircut - I can be vain sometimes, but this is not one of those times. I'll keep attempting to add it throughout the day, and if you come back later and see something SO COMPLETELY GOD AWFUL staring you in the face, you'll know what it is.
(in random order, because I can't figure out the chronology for 3 of these)
This photo is an embarassment trifecta for me: it not displays my freshman 15 (thank you, Jack Daniels and Southern Comfort!) and my newfound obsession with blond highlights, but it was also taken at a fraternity party held in the basement of a bar.
All greek letters (and my good friend Emily, whose eyes were closed in the photo) have been cropped out. Believe me- it's for the best.You'll notice that I have yet to figure out how to hide my can't-miss-it-size-of-a-Buick-forehead. I'm still working on that one - in the interim, my nose is hard at work providing a balance.
This photo is one of those rare pictures where my natural hair color is documented for posterity. It's also quite short because after the highlights grew out, I chopped them off and started fresh. The mysterious eyeball is that of my dear friend Adam.
Also of note: I kept this halter to show to my children someday. It's made of plastic. Not pleather -- plastic. Like the stuff they make automobile seat patches out of. I plan on using it as the main prop in the "Don't Dress Like A Slut When You're Not Really Promiscuous at All: It May Get You a Job as Shot Girl, but It's Really Just False Advertising and That Makes Boys Angry."Welcome to Senior Year - my hair was so long that it ran down my back, well below the shoulderblades. You can't see most of it in this shot, because I have smartly wrestled it into place with a cheap, plastic headband.
Gah - the forehead! What is my problem?!The last photo is the only existing proof of what remains (to this day) as the haircut that ate Nashville. (a.k.a. the worst haircut I have ever gotten in my entire life) In a flash of momentary insanity, no doubt caused by my dislike for my surroundings, I went into a hair salon THAT WAS LOCATED IN A STRIP MALL and handed the stylist a photo of Neve Campbell's cute, chic, and swingy bob. What I got? What I got was the haircut every other crazy bitch in Tennessee had in 2001 and 2002 -- long pieces of hair in front, short and spiky (!) in the back.
...
...
...
Ok, Blogger won't let me post the damn photo. No, I'm not conveniently making this up so that you won't see the haircut - I can be vain sometimes, but this is not one of those times. I'll keep attempting to add it throughout the day, and if you come back later and see something SO COMPLETELY GOD AWFUL staring you in the face, you'll know what it is.
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