I cut my own bangs and lived to tell about it

Now that I am in Fort Worth, I am sans hairdresser.  Aghh, the horrors!

I know. I know.

I had to break up with my lovely friend/hairdresser, Liza, right before we left Austin.  It was horrible.  But we all know that long distance relationships rarely work out.

While I am not quite ready for jumping back on the horse when its comes to finding your new hairdresser/BFF, I know that I need to do something in order to tie me over.  My bangs are in desperate need of attention.

Let's be honest, I look like sheepdog.  Or worse yet, like that guy that keeps doing that whole head nod/I'm cool thing when really I am just trying to see what's in front of me so that I do not trip. 

So I did it.  If Liza isn't already hating me for moving 4 hours away, she's gonna hate me now.  I did what she asked me to NEVER EVER do.

I CUT MY OWN BANGS.

There I said it.  I admitted it.  And you know what?  I think they turned out okay.

Normally I would post a picture of my new kick-ass bangs, but I am not really fit for public consumption at the moment.  I have icing in my hair.  Gingerbread house making is dangerous that way.

So I will do you one better.  Here is my holiday gift to you.  How to cut your own bangs.