OMG! Unlce Jesse Had A Mullet?!

Okay, so that wasn't going to be my title. It was going to be something clever making reference to how bad hair sometimes means good things (no need to comment on that oxymoron) BUT when I Google imaged 'bad hair' and found this picture of Uncle Jesse...let's face it:

I ABOUT DIED!

I, future best selling author of all time in the entire universe, was in love with a mullet. This kind of shocking revelation is NOT how one should have to end a Satuday. I'm just saying.

I'm currently taking deep breaths and trying to focus on what I really wanted to say tonight so if this ends up like my usual crap...let me apologize in advance. I think I have A.D.D.

Earlier this week I was really trying to work out a scene...it wasn't working on the laptop so I grabbed a notebook and tried scribbling some stuff down on paper. I don't know about you guys but writing, like actual using a pen and paper writing - sucks. Made my hand hurt and my arm ache...anyway...

Here I am pacing and jotting and pacing and running my hand through my hair and jotting some more and before I knew it...it was right. The scene, the voice, everything. So I sat back down at the computer and went back to work (my hand had never been so grateful).

Enter Husband (all together: Bless His Heart), who took one look at me and screamed.

Me: What?
BHH: What happened to your hair?
Me: (giving death stare) You really wanna go there?
BHH: (shrugs) I'm just trying to do what's best for my children.

After he went back to his cave I couldn't resist the urge to mosey on down to the potty to check it out myself. Ladies, it made me scream.

I looked like that girl from Dances With Wolves, you know the 'tatanka-kick-ING bird' kidnapped white woman? It was all matty and crazy with bobby pins drooping down and quite frankly just scary.

But you know what? I LOVED IT! Because I had finished my scene and because I was home and it was late at night so no one but me and BHH and Nate (the character from last week who's back from vacation begging me to finish his story - but I'm still bitter so I'm making him wait...he probably LOVES that...) could see.

So the point to yet another long post is: Crazy Ass Bad hair = Good writing for Chellie. Might scare small children and husbands, but it worked.

Who would have thunk it? What about you? Ever looked in the mirror after a hard bout of wrestling with words and thought, "This look really works for me?". What makes your family look at you like they are worried you've gone off the deep end?

Aaaah, the price of creativity....