The final chapter of my hair saga.

Remember how upset I was about my hair? Almost a week later, I still couldn't shake the feeling, so when I happened by a salon in Chicago offering 20% off for new clients, a force took over me and I found myself explaining my problems to the lady behind the counter, who could tell immediately what was wrong with my hair (it was that bad).

A tiny Kim Kardashian (I thought she was prettier, but her hair was almost exactly the same -- I'm growing out my hair now) came out and told me what she would do. After about 45 minutes, I walked out with this:

But a few days later, I trimmed my bangs. They look good, but I need to hide the scissors now. I don't really want bangs, I just wanted to control something (those darn anxiety issues).

So, this is the end for about 3 months. Or 30 days, at the very least.