pickledverse

Apart from gaining back my sanity, I went to LB last last week for a haircut. Yes. Two hour commute for a silly hair cut. Luckily, the conversation I was having with Laurence was too much fun, I forgot all about it. And he skipped his class for me, told his students that they need a writing break; I couldn’t possibly leave him for a haircut.

Thank god. Because I would’ve cut my hair short. Reminiscent of my sophomore self. Peyton hair and Peyton attitude to match. But I wanted change, so last Friday, I went with Nic and Steph to Ystilo to have my hair color changed. Not before I announced to everyone that I would have it in blazing red. Of course, I couldn’t. In fact, this is how it turned out:

I have to make a certain angle so the sun would make it a certain brown. Otherwise, it would look as if I didn’t have anything done. This is really stupid. I really want to grow back my black hair and keep it that way, but I can’t. It’s either I have it cut or colored, or I'll go insane. 

Yes, this is an entire entry on hair color. And why the hell not. Let me mourn my wasted cash.