I cut my dead yellow broomstick hair a few inches and dyed it a very sedate and Mom-ly brown. Got a few reddish tones in there, which is a bit of an aging and unflattering color tone for me, but hey. I'm just tryin to grow this hair out LOOOOOOOOONG so I can someday be a psychotically amazing blue-green-turquoise fairy from outerspace with azure locks to my waist, famous throughout the land for being so breathtakingly effervescent and inspirationally true and pure to the spirit of color and art. At least I am smart enough to know that I will NEVER get there unless I can stop coloring and let it grow in peace. le sigh. Why does patience have to be a virtue? Why can't impulse be a virtue?
I look fine and dandy. My summer clothes are pretty soul-less anyhow, so here we go, just havin a summer. A little brown haired chicky-mama with a tshirt, birks, and cut-offs on, playin with her babies. Totally chill. 
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