Handing over my life...er hair

Samson's hair was his strength.

After trying to grow out my hair for over a year, the inevitable "trim" was bound to creep up on me soon. I was scheduled to have a coloring done at Donatos today and after a consultation with the colorist, he suggested that I get a haircut because the color would be free on the November promotion. How could I possibly pass up a sale? Besides, my split ends were begging me for help.

I said TRIM!

And as the hair stylist continued to hack away at my precious locks, I struggled to hold back tears. She promised me that she wouldn't take off any length. And she didn't, but she gave me layers.

I didn't want bloody layers. I've been trying to grow them out dammit!

I didn't like the way she blowdried my hair either. I came out looking *even more* like Kelly Clarkson re: "A moment Like this."

*SOB*

Never again, scisors....

It's not a drastic change at all, but I'm still greatly traumatized.