Hair Fiasco

I'm writing this post-Valentine's Day, only because I am slack about keeping my blog current, but the trauma with my hair started the day before V-day. My in-laws have a friend who does hair. (I guess I know her too, but I don't think we're quite friends because we don't hang out or run in the same circles.) Anyway, she cuts hair on the side (at home) now that she has 2 children. So, I asked her if she could cut and highlight my hair on Tuesday night. THREE hours later, I finally made it home and took a shower (you know how you feel after a hair-cut with all the loose ends still bothering you.) Even after the shower, Kevin was still not sure I had had a hair cut, which made me even more depressed since I spent money and time for a new doo. He liked the color though, which was sweet that he commented and stayed up until I got home to look at it (he's not a night person). So, I thought that maybe when I got up in the morning, it would look better.

WRONG. It looked the same as it did the night before, and I wasn't happy about it at all. I started crying and Kevin didn't know what to say to me and had to leave for work. So then, my mother-in-law comes into the kitchen (we live with them at the moment) and asked about my hair; then she saw it. I cried more. It was not a good start to a day, besides the fact that it was V-day and I felt "not-so-pretty" with this hair. She quickly said that she would call a couple of places to see if she could get me in for someone to fix it.

As it turned out, the place she had gone the week before for her own hair (which is cute!) had an opening that afternoon. The girl there had to put toner on it (the color was not quite right) and then gave it a fabulous cut. I wanted to hug her when she was through (and most of you know that I'm not a "big hugger type person.") So I spent twice on my hair what I normally would have had to spend and I learned my lesson the hard way.