I look like a Japanese rock star

Last night, I got a hairstyle not of my choosing. In fact, it was chosen for me in advance by my friend Heather and her sister, my stylist, Holly. They had my whole style planned out, that included bleaching me blonde, which I protested and was able to avoid. The cut, however, was going to happen whether I liked it or not.

I guess it’s my fault for not going in there with a plan, so I can’t complain too much. Basically, I got what Holly called a “shaggy razor cut that is so hot!” This translates into using a razor to remove about ten pounds of hair, and then replacing it with ten pounds of product to create this wispy, edgy, layered, bed head, poofy madness that looks like a cross between Pat Benetar and those androgynous little Indie rock boys who go to shows just to “be seen.” It is very, very Japanese rock star.

Of course, Heather had to have lunch with me today to view her co-creation. Upon seeing me, she exclaimed, “Oh my God! You look so much thinner!” Granted, it is nice to be told that, but honestly, I have never really been all that concerned with the fatness of my head. I have never had to squeeze my head into a pair of cute jeans or a sweet swimsuit. I am resigned to the fact that I have a basketball head. Now, said basketball is turning Japanese.

So, my peoples, if you see a Japanese rock star walking around with a hillbilly accent and a big ol’ booty, feel free to say “Hi,” because it’s most likely yours truly. If you are nice, maybe I will to being rocking it out for my United States friends for you. Oh yeah!