Thank goodness it's not the fat Elvis in Vegas

Every year, six months, or season, I decide to do something different with my hair. This past effort was going to be a long growing out, with some nice, romance-cover waves and subtle darker brown undertones. This, of course, was not to last, as I simply can not keep my hair long. I've tried so many times; I just get so ... eck! ... about it by the time it gets to be about as long as it was at the wedding, about five inches below my shoulders. Add to that the idea that I was going to grow out my bangs, too, to add to the nice wavy effect, and create some "pulling back from the face" thing.
Well, as of my last visit to California, I am back to the cute bob that ends about my chin; and as of tonight, I have my bangs again. Honestly, I don't know why I bother ever growing them out. Eventually, I see a picture of myself without the bangs (witness Sydney's birthday party), decide that my forehead really shouldn't be so prominently displayed because it adds ... drama ... to the size of my nose, and then rashly chop them off. As I did tonight. All by myself and while they were kinda too dry to cut. And they're a little too short, and definitely crooked. But at least they're bangs again, and I don't have to pull back the hair with a barrette anymore. It's free to rest on my forehead again. And once again, I look like me again.
Now, how about some purple?