Le Sigh

So, I love love love my hair. More importantly I love my girl who does my hair to this level of perfection. She reads my mind. When I say "whatever you think would look best" it's because I mean it. She saw my vision the first time I went in and I will be devoted to her. No more box color for this gal. I am healed from my past trauma. Anyone who was around during what I call the "Jimmy Neutron Hair" disaster grow out year (or three) knows how scared I am to let anyone do anything drastic to my head since. It's my HEAD. It's what I have to greet people with. And I am only stuck looking in the mirror at it sometimes. I do however have to endure the shocked/horrified/confused looks from others if I go to Great Clips ever again and let some whack-o create her Edward Scissorhands rendition of a "Katie Holmes" bob. That was an experience worse than any mirror ( even the ones with the giant light bulbs of shame surrounding them. only movie stars look good in those and probably only in movies).

Recently I was getting my hair cut and colored by my Mother in law ( who was amazing also, she retired and I refuse to make her home smell like the bleach paste necessary to accomplish my new look). But after my grey began a stand off with me I knew things had entered uncharted territory. It was time for something much much lighter.


Seated under the soothing blower that drowns out the world as I scan the pile of US and People magazines. This I realize is bliss. This is my hour and a half away. My doctor still pressures me to find that mystical half hour to an hour of "me time" a day. I still laugh at the idea of asking where I can fill that prescription for more hours in the day. What I really want to explain to her are the similarities between extra time and a damn unicorn. Sitting under the heat with a zillion foils blonding my strands it clicked. I will trade my daily "me time" for a monthly hair session and call it all even and fair. I feel like a new woman every time I leave that place. And I genuinely have a great time bragging about my monster and my crazy dad and my hubs ( who just interrupted me because I am taking forever in here. No privacy I swear).

Had a great day to say the least. I am resisting the urge to spend a while rooting though my picture files to find that really bad hair cut from way back when. It is worth posting if I find it. Seriously. I may do it tomorrow after coffee and before Ikea ( yes you read that. I said Ikea!! stay tuned).


Also, if you happen to have one of those mirrors equip with the shame bulbs around it, just unscrew three or four. Makes life a lot easier.