Surrender, Dorothy

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Okay, Fine, Let's Talk About Hair

I'm reminded by my friend Jane and fun read (she'd probably be mad if I called her my friend, because, like, I totally stole her boyfriend in seventh grade) Amalah that it's DeLurking Week (I added my own capitalization just for fun).

This coincides nicely with my need to discuss my hair.  And see if anyone but my five friends really reads this blog and the rest of my ever-growing numbers are really, truly brought on by confused people using Yahoo and Google to try to find out about the new movie called Surrender, Dorothy. (It is doing wonders for my stats, which make my little writerly ego feel better, if nothing else.)  Unfortunately for posterity, this is not a movie about me or my life, though if it was, I'm sure I would be played by either the aging Jennie Garth or the suddenly-single-and-perhaps-soon-to-be-replaced-on-Broadway-by-ugh-Britney Christina Applegate.

This is what my  hair looks like now, although it is not always so windblown.  Img_1494_1 (Silly, that's only because we were riding behind a tractor).

I have this silly fantasy that I could chop about half of it off and my baby-fine, lifeless hair would suddenly do the Sienna without any addition of time or effort on my part in the morning. Celebrity_688 Not that I want to be attracting Jude Law or any of the other nanny-banging unattached. I just want something different. I'm not telling my beloved I'm thinking about it.  He's still mad about the time I dyed my hair three different colors in one year. 

So...if I want my hair to go all Sienna Miller on me, what do you want your hair to do for you?  Is there really anyone out there beyond the Lost On Yahoo crowd?