Getting my hair cut/trimmed is one of my favorite things to do. What better way is there to spend an evening than chatting with a girlfriend (in my case, my hair lady is Tiffany who I met Sophomore year of college), getting your hair washed by someone else and walking out of the salon looking fabulous? Sounds pretty nice to me.
Last night I had the works done: cut, dye and eyebrow wax (I was looking like an amazon woman). As Tiffany is doing my weave, she gasps and says, 'Um, Natalie... what is this?" I say, "What is what?" She then points to the top of my head at a small chuck of hair that is only 1 inch long. WTF??? Where did my hair go? I scream and grab my hair. There is a small 1 inch square of hair that is completely gone. Tiffany didn't do it. She didn't have scissors in her hand. When did it happen, I haven't the slightest clue?? I have no idea if I burned it off with the now, not so trusting, CHI straightener or if some mean joke was played on me while I slept. Whatever happened, this is serious and I am deeply concerned for my well-being.
For the purposes of blogging, Tiffany and her husband graciously offered their services and took a picture:
Somewhere in the universe, is a big chuck of my hair. Personally, I would like it back. But until then, I now have my own sort of "rooster tail" thing going. Call me "Rooster" now - it might be the only thing I respond to.