I’ll admit that this post exists largely because my new toy let’s me blog while at the salon.¹ I promise not to do it often, since it’s largely content free. But it does come with a funny picture of me. Just in case you weren’t aware that I am not a natural red-head, this would be a sort of dead give-away. But look how amazingly sculptural and SF my hair is right now! And I have a glowing antennae coming out of my head.

Here I am back in my disguise as a mild-mannered writer. Clearly I’m not a puppeteer in this shot, because my hair looks nice. When I’m working, it tends to be shoved under a cap and sweaty, so, you know, this is not so glamorous.

Oh and just for contrast. Here’s me and my little brother when we were, what, five and two respectively. You’ll notice that my hair used to be extremely blond. It darkened to a fairly nondescript brown by the time I hit college, but would redden in the summer. I figure, with the freckles and the temper, I deserved the red hair.

1. This bit is just a note to myself for next time, because I am daft with names. Rick did my haircut and Larry did the color. [↩]