Got my hair cut and coloured today. Yes, they were excited too.

I go to a school of cosmetology for my hair care needs. It is considerably cheaper, and I am treated like a rock star there. Truly, I am baffled, too, but I kind of like it.

Part of it is my profession. People are all curious about what I do, plus they fear I may vaporize them with my death ray eyes if they are less than civil. It’s an interesting mix.

The second part of this treatment involves my adventuresome spirit, coupled with me having abandoned my vanity about the same time my waistline disappeared. I am old, people. Most of the geezer clients want the bluehead look, and I’m not talking streaks here, either. Those streaks would be reserved for me. That’s right. Geezer woman with the green streaks and totally innovative cut. I collaborate with the student and the instructor, tell them something I think might be fun, and we develop a vision together. Instructor tells the student how to execute it. Makes the students positively giddy. Giddy, I tell you. It becomes a reward for the best student in the class to do my cut and colour.

Today, well, today was a bit different. New class, new instructors, no continuity, and my recent records had disappeared. All that really means is a less than stellar colour result, and a long, long time with my backside planted in a chair. Four hours, to be exact. Also? No real strategy to achieve the desired colour for next time.

What does any blogger do with all. that. freaking. time. on their hands? Why, yes. You try out stories to see what might be interesting to a reader.

Naked guy. Student thinks I should blog about naked guy.

You know what? I might do that. Tomorrow. Too busy right now patting my hair.

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