So I took my punkin’ headed self back to the salon today to see what could be done with the disaster that had been wrought upon me. When the owner of the salon came to greet me in the lobby, her eyes got all wide and she said, “Oh Lord, someone here did that to you?” An offer for free services was not forthcoming (I tried, Brookem! I really did!). No, she wanted to try to fix it. I had lots of things to say about that but because I was raised a good Southern girl, I remembered my Mama’s advice: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all where they can hear you. So, while I wanted to tell the salon owner what I thought about the suggestion, I didn’t. And because I’m a wuss, I sat down in the chair, closed my eyes, and envisioned buying lots and lots of pretty sparkling earrings. (Thanks for the suggestion, Ree!).
When I told her what I had asked the hair stylist to do, she said the only way to get that look now is to cut more. I put the kibosh on that. If she cut any more I would have to resort to that spray on hair that you see advertised at 3am. Then she said that she could fix things up a little bit without taking off more length. I know, I know, looking back on it now it doesn’t make sense that one second she’s saying that it needs to be cut and the next she’s saying that she can fix it without cutting it, right? But I have little ears, remember? I thought maybe I heard her wrong.
So several snip, snip, snips later and I am the proud owner of a retro look. You may remember a little hairdo call the mullet? Oh yeah, I’m bringing mullets back. In fact, I’m sure it’s going to be the latest craze. Because I am da shit. Yes, I am.
Also, ear reduction surgery is going to be all the rage. You wait and see.
The only other bit of news I have is that I am running in a 5K on Tuesday. It’s my first race and I’m nervous. My friend, Marian the Librarian, is going to run with me. She runs several races over the course of the summer and while we both like to do our daily runs on our own, it will be nice to do races with someone else. I will be able to put into practice all the training advice I’ve been reading and getting from friends and family like, “you should run at a pace that allows you to carry on a conversation.” As I’ve told you, I can sing and run but talking and running? I’m afraid the only things Marian the Librarian will hear me say are “Water! Waaaatttteeeerrrr!” and “Port-o-potty! Poooorrrttt-oooo—pooottyyy!”
But I will be rockin’ the mullet and making all the other racers wish that they had hair like mine.