My hair was long; I was thinking to grow a ponytail and pull it back from my head so as to better show the areas where my hair is thinning on either side of my face above my temples. But it was taking a while, and I was getting restless. Several friends taunted me effectively about my shaggy growth (mostly direct from the Cassidy cut over a year ago). My last deliberate style I enjoyed (besides 9 year old) was the mullet Jane gave me - something about the small tail at the nape of my neck really appealed to my vanity.

I like haircuts from friends - a collaboration. So Robin reinstated some deliberate style, based on my vanity, with her own modifications. Here's a picture of us before the cut, when I had more hair:

I would have to describe it as lesbian mullet - because of the pulled-forward gel-mod style, with a sort of cut bangs jag that curves around my face, and still the tails. It meets the most important qualification of a radical hairstyle: it amuses me. Secondly it makes me feel like a slight badass, because people don't know whether I understand I have a hacked haircut or if I'm just insane. A taste of the time I had the uni-dred. Actually it's probably a mix of neatly crazed and fading fashion - the faux-hawk was tired when I first got it. Fortunately I have the lesbian thing going for me.

My mother looked askance at it all weekend; I tried explaining the mullet was a haircut of the French aristocracy in the 1700s but that didn't carry much water. Here I am, freshly cut, shaving my mustache off before I sneezed and blew it off; photo by Robin:

Judy gave me red-striped long-underwear; Mom gave me some cast off green slippers; I dressed like an elf with my new haircut.

My brother was on hand from England - nice to see him.

My mother's wrist is still in a cast, so I did most of the cooking under her supervision. She gets her cast off in a week or so; she's counting the days.