Note to self, 1990's style: Do NOT grow hair out.... Before we get to this hideous hair photo and related memories in honor of the pending anniversary.... 

Note to self: The next time I text the wife to tell her I am in a "lock down" at work because there is an armed robbery going on across the street, I need to remember to text her when it is over so she doesn't think I've been shot and murdered. I totally forgot about texting her back. I was so engrossed in watching the whole thing--SWAT team and all--that when it was over, I just went on my merry way, back to work, yipping about what transpired outside our window. 

We were all fine, thank you for asking, in no apparent danger that I could tell, although...those big ass guns the SWAT team was toting around did make me nervous. FYI: It was a dry cleaner getting robbed. I wanted to yell: "Hey dip-shit! You're right down the street from the Police Station and no one gets their clothes dry cleaned any more!" But, I kept my mouth shut. I let the police do the talking. 

I am sorry to say that despite the overwhelming police presence, the guy got away. I'm just glad he ran somewhere besides to our building. 

Note to self, number 2: The next time I decide to grow my hair out, I am going to go get this photo and remember why I should NEVER grow my hair out again. Oh dear. This photo is from the mid-to-later 1990's, taken in Province town, Massachusetts. For some reason, I let my hair grow relatively long (actually, very long for me). I must have gotten sick of having short hair or maybe I had a head injury during a softball game and decided that long hair was a good idea or maybe I was delirious in a psychotic funk and heard voices telling me to grow my hair long. I'm not sure which is the worst part of the whole hair disaster: the luscious widow's peak; the frizzy -licious-ness; or, the overall look. I think it's the overall look that takes the cake. 

This photo above represents the "Going East til we can't go east anymore" road trip we took--to this day, I don't know how I talked the wife into it, as she hates riding in cars. I must have promised her we would stop at various shopping malls along the way. Anyways, as we are nerds who enjoy visiting college campuses, we stopped at FIVE campuses in one day. Awesome! Five campuses, one bad hair idea. Works for me. I liked having long hair but it certainly does not look like it liked me. 

In case you are sadly and mistakenly thinking, "well, it's not a good look, but it's really not that bad," I have included the photo to the right. I thought it'd be nice to experience the whole 1990's effect while sporting long hair. Nothing like some "skinnier at the ankle" jeans to make your day. (I think the wife is wearing loafers without socks. The 1990's were like that, you know.) And, no--I do not have any idea why I have a leaf from the little tree in my mouth. Maybe I was hungry or needed some roughage. 

The wife had some pretty long hair in the 1990's, too--as evidenced here. I think we should both call it a day and go for the sleek and short styles. I have had fleeting moments of wanting to grow my hair out again, but then I quickly slap myself in the head as hard as I can, pull out photos and then wait for the moment to pass. I have yet to take action on any such thoughts. (I think the wife has fleeting moments of traveling in a car, but then she quickly pokes herself in the eyes, throws herself in front of a moving bus and waits for the moment to pass.) 

Suffice it to say, I have complete confidence that my hair lady will not let this long haired travesty happen again. Instead, she will focus on how to hide the grey..... ....trust me, that will keep her busy.