brave.

i feel like i deserve to pick a prize out of the treasure chest like kids do when they're brave in the dentist chair.

i've always said the hair dresser is more traumatizing than the dentist.

the day i cut 8 inches off the front of my face definitely qualifies as traumatic.

but i did it.

and now i have to train my part not to part like it's used to parting.

p.s.  still reeling from the whole self portrait sitch.  but  meg posted this the other day.  and i commented.  and sent it to robin, who shares the self portrait phobia.  in reply, i believe, meg posted this.  and then ali asked to see my hair.... while i was getting yelled at on the phone.  so... voila. the evolution of the quasi-self portrait.