When I was in a band, I hated haircuts. One might assume that my displeasure toward scissors is related to my desire to look like an unkempt and annually unshowered slob. Let the record state that this account is false. I showered everyday; I swear! Honestly, I refused to get a haircut because I hate sitting through awkward discussions. I would always get a random hair stylist who had more talent snapping gum than cutting hair. “What do we want to do with your hair today,” she would mumble. I would respond, “I’m not sure, honestly, I want it to be hip and indie?” She delightfully proclaims, “Let’s look at a book!” Whenever you present your hair as an open… Read More →