Neigh

I had to admit to a very understanding stylist yesterday that I hadn't had my hair cut since February. And that I dye it at home. And that last week, I didn't wash it for 5 straight days. And that it took five days of conditioner to release the snarling mess of mortar-encrusted-100-degree-dust-baked-cucaraccha-nest I created. She looked sympathetic.
Still, I cannot help but think I am being punished for Acts Against Hair.
If what existed before was a trial bang, she assigned me a full-fledged, eye-level bang.
I perpetually tilt my head because now this bang is all up in my grill (try'na get me to a ho-tel).
I feel like a shetland pony.