Poster girl posin' in a fashion mag

I had been contemplating a change of hair for some time. The ends had begun to fray, and my once side-swept bangs hung lifelessly below my nose. A change was due. There were a couple of bad weeks [remember?] and Mom, knowing precisely what to do, offered to to pay for a hair-cut in an effort to turn the tides. A gifted trim can go one of two ways when sought out in moments of distress. It either lifts a girl to the pinnacle of confidence or sends her reeling into shameful tears. Keeping this in mind, I toiled cautiously with the idea of actually opting for change. It would be so much safer to stick with a once again well-groomed version of my trusty, long layers, a style I've relied on for 3 years now. I proceeded with hesitation, all but threatening the stylist's life if she botched the cut and contributed to the fortnight of woe. You see, if you aren't familiar with the front and center fringe, bangs are tricky. They are troublesome, if not impossible to conceal, and short, much too short to fix if the procedure goes awry.

I had been not so secretly lusting after the quirky, straight-across-the-brow-line look of the 60s' mod movement, but it seemed almost too risky once I planted myself in the stylist's hot-seat. She trimmed the ends [keeping the length intact], giving me time to ponder my options. She only ever-so-slightly coaxed me to gamble on something different, affirming that "bangs are so in," and promising that I could wear and love them harmoniously. I considered the parking fiascoes, the riotous feud brewing with [cell phone provider], the parental strains of divorce vs. The Holidays, and my stumbling adjustment to Army life...Oh!, and the setting provided for all this: five solid days of cold, gray rains.

I waged an internal battled with the possibility of failure matched against the notion of stale trends. "Could retro-inspired bangs, in some way, be liberating?," I wondered.

[Never doubt the sheer power of a new do]

As she blew out my auburn tresses I reasoned with the speed of hair growth [fast], estimated the true value of a hairstyle [it's just hair] , and talked myself into a state of boastful bravery. I took one triumphant breath and commanded the cut.

[then I quickly closed my eyes]

Immediately, I loved it! And in my fickle nature, I just as quickly loathed my decision! [OMG!] Then I adored it, and again regretted ever giving the OK.

[This is simply my nature]

It's taken me about 2 weeks [and many affirmations] to finally become accustomed to the strange reflection peering back from glassy surfaces. It's a novel style, probably not one with staying power, but for now I'm kind of loving it. And in the name of those needy confirmations, just yesterday, at a local coffeehouse, I received some mad props for my crazy bangs from a thirty-something gentleman.

I smiled.