This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

The Best Therapy

I love my stylist.

She's beautiful. She's young. She's creative. And she loves to play with my hair.

She is very confident in her abilities as a stylist. I have total trust in her. And she takes advantage of that and tries just a little something different each time I go there.

I me my wonderful stylist earlier this year. My previous, and very loved, stylist was no longer doing hair.

I loved my previous stylist because she is the only stylist I had met, at least five years ago, that would even _think_ about dying my dark brown hair blonde. She didn't blink an eye and I didn't believe it would happen and when we were finished, I had golden tresses within my brunette head.

I followed her when she left the salon she worked at with her now-ex-husband. When I was pregnant with Mi-Mi, she followed my request of having dyed black hair with blue highlights. You heard me, BLUE HIGHLIGHTS! I loved it. I was in my last trimester and had this freaky hair color.

She then went back to her 'day' job, which was an ER nurse. [Side note: See, some people actually have degrees and choose to do things they LOVE over money and power.] She was leaving the salon business but lucky me, she would continue to do my hair AT MY HOME! It was wonderful! We would have cheese and wine while we chatted and had my hair blonderized.

But alas, all good things must come to an end and she moved on and I was left behind.

But my BFF Amy was showing up with GREAT hair. She recommended her stylist to me. I was skeptical. Amy has naturally light hair...mine is not. And no one has been able to do blonde in my hair except MY STYLIST.

But Amy talked to her stylist, who recommended her daughter, who focuses more on long hair. So I took a chance and drove from the comfort of Raleigh into strange Apex.

My hair was in dire need of attention and The Magnificent One went into action. It was beautiful and it made me feel incredible.

When I asked for a change, she made a suggestion and out I came with black, blonde and red hair -- intermixed classically. All confidently done by The Magnificent One, who also LOVES her job. I'm jealous - I couldn't do this type of work because I am talentless and because, this young girl is smart enough to do something she likes for a living.

Anyway, I just saw her this past Friday. While she was blow-drying my hair, which is at the end of all the color and cut, she says 'I didn't tell you during, but I tried a new color on you, Cherry Red'. She says it with a sinister, but cocky, smirk. And I LOVE IT...I love the surprises she throws in...

It truly is the best therapy. Someone playing with my hair -- how intimate and trusting...and then voila! This person transforms an ordinary human into this amazing THING.

She agreed, when I told her how I felt like it was such great therapy, and said "It makes you feel like you can conquer anything."

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