On Saturday, while sober, I made a decision that I had to be NOT sober to follow through on that night. I stood caressing and lovingly stroking it as I separated it from the rest of everything else and cried. My best friend walked in and made fun of me - you know, to give me moral support. Then, with two snips, it was out: I have finally decided
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Are you: sad for the lock?... sad for me moving on?... sad for the rest of my hair?... sad that I bought cigarettes?... sad that no one knows I am so much older than I look?... sad that people don't take me seriously?...
It's amazing how many thoughts words get across...
;-)
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of course I'm sad about the cigs. Happy about the age, and sad about the being-taken-seriously part, but none of those are new issues, really.
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heatherthegreat introduced me to her hairdresser a bit ago. I've seen her twice now, and I think she is the bee's knees. She's a geek like me, so when I tell her I'm not going to fuss with it, she listens and gives me a cut that doesn't need fussing. Previously, I had suffered enough hair trauma from styling maniacs that I had resorted to cutting it myself. Now? I love what Kristen does to my hair. She has a great attention to detail, too, so I never find those weird missed chunks of too-long hair.
How's this for endorsement: I feel compelled to hug her after a hair cut.
Come to Austin and I will introduce you to Kristen of Hairy Situations. We'll have a blast!
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