Nearly two years ago, I I bleached my hair and then dyed it this purplish red. It was a spur of the moment decision made by me and my suitemates. I'm still trying to get rid of it.

Actually, my hair isn't red anymore. It's blonde. The dye faded but the bleach stuck around. I've been doing this nasty two tone thing for a long damn time. But my hair has finally gotten long enough to cut out the blonde and be a complete brunette.

I'm about to leave and get it chopped off. I'll probably come back with chin-length hair. Anything much longer is so damn hard to maintain.

Leon actually voiced an opinion about my hair today. This is rare, because he's usually indifferent to things like hair and clothes and the long-term effects of Clinique's pore minimizer. But he commented on my hair.

"I like your hair long. And brown. It looks so good in pictures from freshman year, when it was long and brown and pretty. That red hair was weird." Or something like that.

Basically, he doesn't mind me cutting out the blonde but he wants it long. He even started offering me maintenance techniques since I find long hair so unmanageable.

I hope he doesn't cry when he gets home tonight.