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Wow I was looking at my last thread and I can hardly believe its been almost a month since I have written. I have been uber busy with life and the next few weekends will be no exception. For the most part its the same old kind of busy. Work and school and trying to make sure I am wearing clean underwear. Shoot somedays just making sure I have underwear on should warrant an achievement award. Just kidding folks, I am no Britney.

 I did have my hair cut last weekend. That was real special to say the least. I have recently colored my hair. it has a distinct reddish hue to it. I am “getting used to it”. Anyhow I needed it cut and as my stylist lives quite far, I decided to branch out. Not a good idea. The last time I did that I wound up with a mullet.

 So I head over to the “salon”, lets use that term loosely shall we? The woman who cut my hair had hair the color of straw, and while I didnt touch it, 5 bucks says that’s what it felt like. It was all blond and wiry.  I set my reservations aside and I let her wash my hair and when she was done, she got up and walked over to her chair. I was left sitting there with my hair dripping and glasses in one hand, while the other hand was trying to keep the turban that my hair was wrapped in from falling out. I look over at her and she looks at me like she forgot that I was there. She proceeds to tell me how she is just used to her other customers just following her from one chair to the other. I got up and grabbed the luggage that is my purse and I set off in the direction of the other chair.

 I sat down and I was horrified. I dont know what bulbs they use, but you would think they would spring for the “natural light” ones. As it is I looked like a wet piece of frecked chalk. Not pretty. As she begins to cut my hair I being to get a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Lovely.

I tried to make a bit of small talk but I wasn’t very successful. About a minute into the chit chat I heard a large growling moan. It wasn’t coming from me. The lady apologizes. Apparently she had been feeling queasy all day. Mmm just want I want to hear. I all of the sudden get a vision of vomit making its way down my wet hair. Between that and the smell of the smoke, I was getting a bit queasy myself. I couldn’t even relax enough to enjoy the process. About 4 minutes later, literally she pronounced herself done. My hair was begining to dry a wee bit, and as a result it started to wave up a bit. She grabs a can of white foam, squeezes some out in her hands, and for the next 10 seconds scrunches the heck out of my head and then stands back to admire her work. She then starts sweeping up. I am all like, “Are we kidding? This is done?”

Mind you this is March 1, so for all intents and purposes it was Feburary. Feburary and the woman sends me out with an almost dripping do. Who does that?