Exotic yet ordinary

This afternoon I found myself standing in the middle of Sprawl-Mart with a chunk of time to kill as the one-hour photo folks transferred vacation pictures from a disposable camera to disk. We had enough foresight to remember to pack our camera, but once we reached our vacation destination, failed to take it with us anywhere we went. I think subconsciously I may have wanted to prevent physical proof of my time spent in "family-friendly Las Vegas" proper. So, thank God for shops that sell disposable cameras by the buttload to husbands! I don't know how I would have made it without all the sweaty Silver Dollar City shots. Which I am absolutely NOT posting, by the way. Well, maybe one or two. Some day.

Anyway, when faced with time to waste inside a Supercenter, I sometimes get the urge to do crazy things... like deliberately walking into a SmartStyle salon so I can pay to have a stranger (with somewhat questionable hair) chop my hair off. And, inevitably, I pick a hairstyle intended for straight hair, one I know that my hair will fussily reject, but I'll insist upon it anyway, because I'm delusional.

I didn't sign in. Instead, I situated myself in the far corner of the room and flipped through books. About the time I decided I was going to do this thing, a girl spotted me in my corner and asked if I had been helped. I gave a clumsy description of what I wanted done (long in front, short in back), with the aid of a picture I found in one of the books, and let the girl guide me over to the sinks for a shampoo. Thirty minutes or so (and a few awkward exchanges that barely passed for small talk) later, the floor was covered with curls and what was left on my head had been flat-ironed into submission.





I'm sure I'll hate it in the morning. I ALWAYS hate my hair the next day. Cutter's remorse. But, I like it.. for now.