August 28, 2016

hey blondie


When something traumatic happens, my first instinct is always "Welp, time to do crazy shit to my hair." This is pretty tame, considering that in high school, I used to dye it dark colors before I started going red and get a substantial amount chopped off. This time around, all it took was a few inches off and some highlights to make me feel like a million bucks. 

And, fun fact? This is how I looked every summer when I was a kid. We went to the pool literally every day and between the sun and pool chemicals, I was the blondest I have ever been. 

I got my hair cut literally an hour before my dad's funeral. I have a feeling that he would've said something along the lines of, "You look just like my little girl, but now you're all grown up." 

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