I've always prided myself on my beautiful hair. Unfortunately, as of late, it has become increasingly gray and has required frequent visits to the salon. I used to have my own hair care professional, but unfortunately she upped and moved on me, and I haven't found a competent replacement yet.
**Side Note--Whiskey recommended some born-again Christian FREAK to me, and I thought, I'll give her a whirl since I love Jesus too! So I go into the salon, and we start with a prayer in which she prayed she wouldn't damage my hair. She then proceeded to wash my hair, then rinse it with holy water. As she was drying it, I felt the need to speak in tongues....
The cosmetologist told me that I should color my entire head of hair, dry it, then foil in the highlights. Me, not having been to hair school myself, thought, "hmmm, she is the professional, so I guess I should trust her." WRONG. Never think this. NEVER listen to the professional.
Upon leaving the salon, I did like my color. However, as days went by it became increasingly dry. I decided to go back into the salon to see what the deal was because like I said, I typically have really amazing hair. Yeah, the broad BURNT my hair. Apparently the answer to her prayer was NO. Yeah, this baby-fine-hair now looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket. Thus requiring me to spend extra money going to the salon for deep conditioning treatments and purchasing additional products to hydrate my dull, lifeless, kinky-ass hair!
Today, while at said salon getting my hair hydration on, I was put under the heater. The cosmetologist stepped away, thinking I'd be fine with no problems. However, I got shifty in the seat. Was it the drugs I took beforehand? Was it the diet coke? How about the sugary cereal. Needless to say, I had the shakes. Somehow I managed to knock the free-standing hair dryer over in the middle of my treatment. I looked around in a panic, and I was unsure what to do. Thankfully another stylist came to my rescue and replaced the dryer and situated it so that my shifty-ass wouldn't knock it over.
Do things like this happen to everyone or am I the only one? I mean I pick a faulty cart about every time I enter the grocery store too. Coincidence? I think not. I have a curse.
Rest assured Fancy. I too am a walking Murphy's law. Burnt hair? Check. And trips to Les Scwabb and to get my oil changed are always pricey surprises.
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