brainylady

I ♥ my haircut



Great, just great. I can never move now.

I'm not very good at getting my hair cut. As you may or may not know, I went to hairdressing school in Montreal as a wayward nineteen-year-old. Learning a trade, something to fall back on, blah blah. I never did work as a hairdresser (oops, I think the new word is "stylist"), but I was forever spoiled for haircuts. Basically, most people don't cut hair the way I think they should. And I hate that. So I'm always anxious and often disappointed. (The worst cut was about four years ago: I went to get cute short layers, and when I got home Bill said I looked like Wayne Gretzky.)

So I called a local salon yesterday to make an appointment, and I was told that Wendy would be cutting my hair. I asked, "Um... is Wendy a little bit punk rock at all?" Well, no, but she'll do a good job. O-kaaay. So I found a few pictures of cuts I liked and took them with me this morning, and Wendy rocked my world. And now I can never move away. Thanks, Wendy. Thanks a lot.