Well, Sasquatch, You've Done Cleaned Yourself Up Again. Who Wants all the Hair Ties I Have Lying Around Now? Another Jerry Makeover (aka Haircut)

Twice I've had my hair cut and donated the locks to charity. Previous renditions were arm's length, but this one was more 'Cousin It in Lilliputia'... just enough to make me think, "Whoa. You had a head of hair," but not enough to say, "NOOOOOOOO, why'd you cut it."

It's cut. That hair is dark, too. What is underneath is almost totally gray. Gone is the wig, the furry creature, the head of hair that has been accruing since last March.

Truth is, I awoke yesterday morning pretty sure I was morphing into Snape or William Shakespeare. I looked at the head of hair on top of my head and said, "Okay. Make a decision. You've got this head of hair, but growing it out won't make you 24 again. It will just make you look like an almost-50 year old, creepily trying to look younger. That's always wonky."

After cutting it, I asked my older sister, "Why didn't you tell me how ridiculous I've looked for the last year," in which she responded, "I thought you knew and wanted to look stupid."

She knows me, I guess.

I was surprised that Abu texted back with total disappointment that I cut it. "You're so gray." Um, yeah. "You look old." Well, okay.

Anyway, it's gone. I cut it. That phase is over. I have an incredible barber and I'm super thankful to Jerry Simeon, Fade Factory, in Stratford. He's a genius with the clippers and although I blame him for allowing me to grow it out, "You've got hair Crandall, grow it out," I was equally happy for him to get rid of it. Although that mop of hair on the floor looks impressive, I know for a fact it is no where near as thick as it used to be. My 20s hair was big-time heavy. I think my hairline is fading.

And speaking of heavy, so comes another round of northeast storms - two days of the fluffy stuff with less than 24 hours notice. The alerts just popped up and I was like, "Whatever. How is staying home any different than, like, staying home? At least its arrival gives us an excuse to get outside and do something new?"

Next week's schedule is approaching and I'm looking at it with alarm...Uh, Crandall. You don't have superpowers. How are you going to accomplish all that you're committed, too? Um, I will. With luck...more snow will come and there will be cancellations (but something tells me I won't be so lucky).

Meanwhile, I'm feeling relieved, like my sisters, that everything worked out well yesterday in upstate New York, and now I am sending wishes for the best, fastest recovery. 

"You could never be a supermodel," I once was told. "You're face is all crooked and you don't know how to smile."

I realized yesterday that I don't smile for photos, because when I do, my cheeks grow enormous and my face looks like a baboon's ass.

And with this, I think my vanity posts will disappear for a while (I'm thankful, too).

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let is snow!