Adios, mi pelo. (Patreon)

Rest In Peace, haircut that I’ve had since literally my Late 20s.

After all the years I’ve spent living in Europe, one must remember that I was, in fact, in the middle of nowhere. And a big chunk of that was spent in quarantine when… Who the fuck of us was actually thinking about our hair in the first place?

I dread the impending conversation with the stylist who I, willfully, am spending just a bit too much money on. “My God, your ends are really split!” (insert Spanish hairdressing idiom here to relay the idea of extremely split ends.)

I’ve loved my little side swoop. But in honor of the continent in which I’ve been residing, I think I might (And God knows if my face will work for it) go for what they refer to here as a “fringe.“

When I was growing up, we called them bangs. They were those things that you, in a fit of rebelliousness, administered unto yourself when you were feeling particularly rebellious. Circa… Age 12, or so. Not a personal story. Just asking for a friend.

Anyway, it’s also really hot. Removing a few hundred grams of dead epidermidis will probably make the cold Galician beer go down a bit more smooth.

I’ll keep ya updated. I like my hair, and I have a lot of it, and I like the long-ish hair thing, so I’m not gonna go rebellious and start posting images where I look like Sinead O’Connor yelling about the Pope on SNL (she had some points, but forget I said that reference entirely if you’re under 30).

Just a bit of an overdue trim for what the mirror confirms is a mop.