It started on Sunday, when I decided in all my wisdom to cut my hair. Just under a year ago I did brave the shave for macmillian cancer, and shaved my head. My hair at the time was just above my waist, and I had had enough of it, so off it all came.
But I found I liked it really really short, so I wanted to keep it short, but it was starting to get out of control, so I shaved it off again.
Its not a grade 8. Bit shorter than I wanted, but so much better. I also blamed my best friend C, cause you know, I had to blame someone else.
Then yesterday myself and C were chatting, and I was telling her how my son wants myself and my partner to get married. Which we are planning on doing at some point, and the conversation moved round to changing my name on facebook and that could be a bit of a giggle.
I made the decision to change my last name to hers. Which she found hillarious. Made even funnier by the fact that I didn’t know I couldn’t change it back for 60 days.
*sigh* so I now have a haircut I don’t really want and a last name on facebook