Need more scarves.

Six months ago, I cut 9.5 inches off my hair. I did it on a Saturday while Disgruntled Husband was meeting his parents halfway to get one of our children back. He came home and saw me, and didn't say anything. And then, he said everything. He actually told me that I cut my hair because he didn't want me to. Yeah, that's it, honey.

You can read about my hair experience here.

And now that I've lived with it, and somewhat maintained it for the past 6 months, I have to say, I'm missing my longer hair.

(Cue phone call from DH....NOW.)

I got my haircut so I'd actually have to do it each day rather than sling it back into a ponytail. I wanted to look more mature. Oh I look mature, all right, like a 48 year-old office worker going through menapause. It's aged me in ways I didn't want, and now, all I can do is wait.

I'm thinking maybe somewhere between chin and shoulder-length, all one layer, no bangs. Which is a long way of from where I'm at right now...I'm a cross between a lesbian mullet and Justin Bieber. This is one of the few times I'm thankful that it's still winter and I don't have to leave the house much...and when I do, a hat is usually involved.

On a 16 year-old boy, it looks good. On an almost-32 year-old mom, it just looks awful.

I wanted to look pull-together and polished, and I feel like the only look I've achieved is "homeless."

(That's not even fair to habitat-challenged folks; I've seen some news footage of soup lines with people that have better hair than I do standing in it.)

I am somewhat lucky in that my hair grows pretty fast and it's a nice color naturally. That all falls under the same catergory with the fat girl with the pretty face. It's a small piece of good news.

As spring approaches, I'll be bringing back the Grace-Kelly-windblown-scarf-look. Now all I need is some big black sunglasses, red lipstick, and a convertable.