Haircut: a biblical story

In the case of my blog, i wouldn't say that no news is good news. rather, i'd like to think any news is good news as long as it is articulated in a somewhat entertaining manner. That being said, i done got me a haircut. Yes, i'm vain and this post will be dedicated to the 4 inches and approximately 4 ounces of hair i shed yesterday.
I had decided about a week ago that it was time to take the leap and cut off some of the straggly mess that i had been cultivating for the past ten years. Though i love my libby girl and try my best to model myself after her behavior (alpha female, always gets what she wants, blonde bombshell, etc), it is not necessary that i maintain my hair as she does.
The last time my hair was as short as it is now, i was 13 years old. i have to say, i think i somehow associated shorter hair with the awkwardness of that most brilliant year in which i was 3 inches taller than every boy, shy shy shy and completely flat. Some things never change. Either way, i thought it was time to take the plunge and make a change. Though i have toyed with the idea of a significant hair cut for months, i had kept my long hair as an act of rebellion. You see, a couple months ago at a staff party, a drunken co-worker gave me a long-winded and inappropriate lecture on how i had "to dress for the job i wanted, not the job i had". This crazy ass broad was enough to keep my long locks until i decided that cutting my hair was not a means to conform to the professional working world and help people take me more seriously but a way to take myself LESS seriously, to have some fun and not be so afraid of taking a chance. i had to get over my samson complex, thinking all my mojo was in my hair.
note: i realize i sound ridiculous and self-involved and just to emphasize this point, when debating hair cut or no hair cut, i decided that if i really hated it, too bad, worse things happen, like darfur. also, as my wonderful roommate likes to point out: this is my world, you just living in it (i.e. this is my blog, you just visiting it.)
Of course my boyfriend (*) had some input. He thought i needed a REASON to cut my hair like a job change or a sex change but i thought, if i get my hair cut, maybe a (good) change will come. He so generously offered to break up with me a brief period of time if it would be the motivation i needed to cut my hair. what a nice boy.
This is not to say he wanted me to cut my hair, in fact, for the last week he has held my hair, kissed the ends, whining "i love you, please don't go, i will miss you." But his romantic ways couldn't change my mind. I am a woman who can't be tamed, much like libby. When i asked my mom what my dad thought when she cut her waist-length hair over 25 years ago, she said "he's still not over it." oh well.
So yesterday, i went home to the burbs, to my beloved hairdresser who "respects long hair." As she whacked away at decade old hair, my mom looked on in horror, fearing that she, being the closest in proximity, would endure my wrath if i hated my new do. Lucky for her, i am quite pleased with my new coiffe.

* boyfriend's named withheld in an effort to maintain anonymity and so as not to make him a victim of hate crimes committed by other, very jealous boys.