The sickness continues...

Yeah, this time I decided to let someone else play around with my hair. I went to a beauty school, figuring they could use the experience doing something creative, and I also liked the low pricing. Well, things didn't quite go as I had hoped. Five hours in the chair was just one of the drawbacks to my little adventure. In that five hours I was given what I now affectionately call my rooster plume. I'm considering doing a weird punk thing and creating one on the opposite side of my part, so it has a friend to keep it company while it grows out. Time will tell. In the meanwhile, I'm sticking to doing my own hair again. At least I know it'll turn out soft, instead of this brittle mop they left me with. (And red... I'll at least get the red I wanted!)



P.S. I wonder if they have a specific therapy group for hair changing addicts like me?!?