Getting my hair re-blonded yesterday was an interesting follow-up to getting my shots (I love how that makes me sound like a dog who constantly lives on the edge of rabies).
The chemicals-for-salons people discontinued my particular color of bleach so our girl applied a different kind of paste to my scalp and foils. The kind you can really FEEL burning into your freshly-picked head-scabs. Maybe I’ll get cancer from it, but it feels sooooooooooooo good!
We didn’t have time today to ask Lightning Allie if she knows of a standard operating procedure recognized by hair fetishists for measuring length of hair, so this may be inaccurate:
I think seventeen inches plus is pretty impress for just getting a trim yesterday AND for having chemically-processed hair. Is it?
It’s cloudy today, with a 70% chance of rain.