"I cut my hair at the dinner table. I cut my hair while I drive. I stole scissors from the hospital and would discretely cut my hair in group therapy. I would leave events and classes so I could go and cut my hair. I still cut my hair. And usually by the end of a ‘session’, there’s a pool of little blonde split ends on the floor. Then once when I was going to vacuum up the hairs, I spotted something. A long curly black hair. And I thought, “This isn’t mine. This shouldn’t be here.” Split Ends is about control. The thing about split ends, is that as soon as you cut one off, somewhere else on the head, another strand of hair will split. This became my problem. Cut, split, cut split, ad infinitum. In a dual storyline, I fell in love with a man who made me want to pluck my arm hairs, wax my legs and vacuum any loose hairs I could find. He was ironically the hairiest man I had ever met and would shed his hair all over my apartment, hairs I kept finding months after he had left me. He would shed, leave, disappear, reappear, shed, tell me he loved me, tell me he lied, leave, shed, appear, shed, malt, love, lie, cheat, shed, shed. I would cut hairs, pluck hairs, vacuum hairs, find hairs, waiting for him to pull the plug on what we had because I couldn’t. Using a combination of stand-up comedy, puppetry and multi-media, Split Ends explores what choices I did or did not make to arrive at this place and attempting to understand if I was meticulously in control or incredibly out of it.