I finally got my hair cut today.For those of you who don’t know me in person, I have short, thick hair that grows exceptionally fast. I have only had 3 hair stylists in my 25 years of adulthood. They knew my hair, cut it well, and I didn’t have to worry about freaky things happening. For some reason, with this move to Toronto, I haven’t been able to get around to booking a hair appointment. There are a number of chi-chi hair salons on the major street near me and I just couldn’t bring myself to pay the big $$ every five weeks for a cut and colour. I made an appointment at a salon in Kingston while I was at the cottage during the summer and it was just okay. Nothing great. Wierdishly flat long hair. Overly red colour. I walked into a salon in my neighborhood this morning after running errands and made an appointment for a cut this afternoon. I just took whoever they gave me and she was GREAT! I didn’t do a colour because they wanted me to meet with the technician first. After the cut, at least three people in the salon mentioned how great my hair looked, how it took years off my face, and suited me much better than the grown-out shaggy mess that I walked in with. (Okay, they didn’t say that last part but it was strongly implied.) I feel normal again. A hair cut shouldn’t do this, but I realise that I was quite affected by how pathetic my head has looked these past weeks. Next week, we do colour.