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As many of you know, I hold Osama Bin Laden (well, at least, his death, and the heightened security alert and greater restrictions on what you can fly with) personally responsible for the regrettable shape that my hair was in since Monday of last week. My perfectly wonderful hairdresser, who now resides in Houston, was prevented from flying to Gnashville (so named, because of all her clients who were weeping and gnashing their teeth) that day The airline wouldn’t let her bring her hair cutting/coloring tools with her on the plane.
It’s been a long, dark, stressful time. (Yes, I jest. Mostly.)
But light has broken on the Boonie horizon.
My dear husband and son have been seeing a lovely hair stylist here in the Boonies for their hair, only 15 minutes down the hill. My husband has been bugging me to at least give her a try. I went in, had my consultation with her, told her what I did and didn’t want, and dang if she didn’t nail it. For a lesser fee, and closer to home, I am rockin’ my new ‘do.
Take that, you rotten evil terrorists, you! No burka for THIS head!
|Liking the color.|
|Side view – like a mug shot, sorta.|
I am tickled to death to have found such a good thing, and so close to home. Good hair, in the Boonies? Almost too good to be true!
Are you liking your hair these days? There’s nothing quite like a good hair day, to me!