On subject: I like this skirt because it comes with a wide elastic waistband therefore I don't even need a belt. It's a lazy girl's dream come true.
Off subject: Have I ever told you about the time I let a girl fresh out of beauty school chop about 10 inches off of my hair? (She said short hair was her speciality. I was powerless.) It was supposed to look like Katie Holmes but instead I looked like a gourd with an ugly wig on*. (This round face can not do short hair. Don't argue with me.) Within minutes, I went from super long hair to hair that couldn't even be wrapped around a curling iron it was so short. As I braved work the next day, I hoped that I was wrong about the cut and that a few compliments would cheer me up. And then no one said a word to me. No one. After about three months of growth did someone finally ask if I got my haircut. How do you know when you've got a bad haircut? When people don't even lie to your face about it. That's when you know.
Since then I've let my hair grow with a few trims here and there, terrified of the shears. But looking at these photos I think it might be time for a trim. It's looking a little medieval up in here.
The only good thing that came out of that haircut (besides the purchase of Jessica Simpson hair extensions, true story) was that's when I knew Bryan's love for me was real. We'd been married for about 2 months when this happened and every day he still told me I was beautiful. He either believed that or he was the only person kind enough to lie to my face. And that in my book is true love.
(*There are no known photos of this tragedy. And if there were I'd burn their existence before anyone laid eyes on them.)