Yesterday, the radio played Guns N’ Roses Knockin on Heaven’s Door. I remember when that song first came out, and it sounded BAD ASS. But now it sounds ridiculous. Ridiculous in an awesome way, of course. You realize, there can never be anything like them again.

In other news, I got a haircut. Two inches off and much layering, resulting in somehow cutting off most of my hair. She wanted to do bangs too, convincing me I would need to flat iron them. I do not own a flat iron, so we deferred.

I haven’t had bangs since the year “Knockin On Heaven’s Door” came out. The bottom layer of bangs (because bangs were always layered) were curled down with a large-barrel curling iron, and the rest of the layers were curled back so that they feathered atop the head in a slightly perfect fashion. They were then hairsprayed into place, because nothing in nature would hold that shape on its own.

For now, I am bangs free. We can all breathe a sigh of relief.