Fat faces

I have 10 fingers and 10 toes. I have two hands and two feet. Everything spaced equally, I can only count so far in one day. Thus I cannot quantify how many times a day or week “HELP MY HAIR” posts show up on the interwebs. I can’t tell you how often I feel for someone’s locks of lurve. But I can tell you how often I’m going to lament mine.

Ready?

Really?

…………………….> MOAR WAITING

I walked into a hip, posh salon and asked for assistance killing my ego. Well really I said “help, my hair is odd!” and asked for face-shape recommendations.

“How about some roundness?” the polite hipster asked. SURE!

I walked out with a round face and a round head of round hair sans the curls I heart so hard. I walked out wondering why round worked with round, why she didn’t say “how bouts we square it up for you?” and why I felt so nekkid.

Hair grows. Mine grows quickly so dreading haircuts isn’t necessarily important. But how often we rely on that ever-important first-impression-maker and beg assistance from people who give us those old stand-bys about chins and fleshy bits round our middles. Why we aren’t more adventurous.

Does this giant mass of hair covering my face make me look FAT?

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