soapboxdiner

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Is there anything better than a fresh haircut, ladies? Going in, having your head massaged, eyes closed, head back, body extended. Warm water pouring over your scalp. Fresh, fruity smells tempting your nose. Soft sounds tinkling through overhead speakers. Warm towels snugly encircling your tender follicles. Gentle snips here, tussle snip flip-toss there. More yummy smells in the form of gels and the like. A blow and a brush and another toss for good measure. And what do you know? You have sparkling, shiny, healthy and bouncing tresses.

Yeah, I don't do that.

I cut my own hair, just as I cut Steven's. Sure, I try to make it the full-on spa experience but come on, when you are doubled over the porcelain of the tub with the nossle digging into your occiput, the effect just isn't the same, you know?

I have to tell you though. I took three winter wind and chemical-dyed inches off ye olde lockes today, brushed it out and coiled it up into a bun before dining at Che Folks'. Upon coming home and letting down my hair, it bounced, IT WAVED, IT SHINED!

I have outdone myself. I look stunning, darlings. And don't it feel good.

I love new hair.

8:50 pm - 01.19.03
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