Hair.

I am very particular about my hair. So, it was with some trepidation that I moved down to Washington, knowing that I would have to leave behind my amazing stylist, whom it took forever to find, and who was quite reasonably priced to boot (as much as I'm particular, I'm also thrifty, which will win out every time).

The Washington salon scene is really out of control. Even ridiculously bad haircuts cost way too much, and you can't even afford a serious hair cut at a place that doesn't smell like it also cuts dog hair during the slow times. And, some places don't let you add the tip to your credit card. They only accept cash tips. Hey, I'm sorry you have to report your tip to the IRS. I can make your life easier by not tipping at all.

So, after a number of disappointments, I decided to take some drastic action: I ordered a nice set of clippers for about the cost of two haircuts, and decided to take matters into my own hands.

Or, actually, Michael's hands. Because, let's be honest: no one can cut their own hair.

So, we gave it a shot. Trepidacious at first, as the locks flew, we became emboldened. And, the result was quite satisfying. For the past several months, we've been cutting each other's hair and it's been going alright.

But, two weeks ago, I attempted what no one should dare: I was impatient, and tried to do it myself. With my head down, things seemed to be going pretty well. The hair was coming off, I felt the customary abandon and liberty that comes with doing things for yourself, like fixing a leaking faucet or figuring out how to rewire a light socket: I was not helpless! I was empowered to control my own destiny!

Then, I looked in the mirror: The hair of Matt Lauer, in his cancer patient 'do, was sitting on top of my head! I had ranked on my scalp too hard, and sliced down my poor follicles to stubble. It was a wasteland from the eyes on up.

Well, on half my head anyway. I tried to experiment with styling, combing, product, but in the end, I had to cut it all off. Then, I mourned the loss of my sightly coiffure. I prefer to think of my new 'do as more Justin Timberlake-esque . However, I'm happy to report that I lack the odd hairline that Justin exhibits here. Or the disgusting veins apparent here. Please notice how his old haircut was strikingly similar to my old haircut. However, we can all be grateful that my hair never looked like this.

I remain at the fashion vangard. Albeit, sometimes unwittingly.