In Her Shell
Friday, July 28, 2006
  Wonderturtle and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Hair
I have never left the hair salon pleased with the way I look.

The cut is usually fine. Since I've given up the belief that a bargain is worth it in all aspects of my life, it's rare to get an actual bad haircut.

But why must they tease and poof me out until I look like a middle-aged woman from the 1980s? I smile weakly, pay quickly, tip grudgingly, and scoot out to the car where I can pull down that rearview mirror, flip my head upside down and run my fingers through my hair until it looks semi-me.

At least today she asked if I wanted hairspray.
 
Comments:
do you usually go out in a matching orange knit turtleneck sweater too?
 
Are you kidding? That is a picture of me.
 
I once bought Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day for a boyfriend who was always whining about how miserable his life was. He didn't really appreciate the humor, and shortly thereafter I dumped him.
 
Sounds like a smart move.
 
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