Miracle: I Survived the Hair Salon

And I don’t even have anything cool to tell you.  I thought it would be kind of crazy trying to explain what I wanted.  I thought I’d come out with hair four inches shorter than I intended.  I thought I’d have to use wild (animal) gestures to give details about the ins and outs of my locks.

Nope.

I walked in, found a girl who speaks English, made an appointment for 1 hr later, came back, and got it chopped.  It even looks decent. (note: this is NOT my usual result when trying a new stylist)

But that’s boring.  Way to ruin my blog post for the day, hair lady. But way to get my hair cut right, hair lady.

The only weird thing was that having the stylist blow dry your hair almost doubled the cost of the cut.  If you don’t want to pay for her to do it, they’ll give you a blow dryer and a brush and you can do it yourself.

So ha!  I found a bargain.  But it’s still not the wild & crazy, hair-brained adventure I envisioned.

Baby, it's cold outside!

Instead, I’ll show you our snow.  That’s my littlest pumpkin, er I mean that’s Screech.  He’s being hounded by a really determined snow swirly.  What’s a snow swirly?  It’s one of those pockets of wind that just blows the white stuff around and around until it gets in all the cracks and crevices, finding your open scarf, the gap between your gloves and your sleeves, and your exposed ankles in order to make you as miserable as possible.

I should mention that the little man attracted this much snow in about 90 seconds.  I’m (pretty) sure we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Since my hair story was so, well, um, not a story, let’s hear your stories.  Did you get a frizzy poodle perm?  Six inches off instead of one?  I had a lady drop a curling iron on me once while doing an updo.  Did anything freakish like that happen to you?

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