Breathe again, my friends, for I am here to tell you all about my hair. I know you were worried.
I had an appointment today at the Fountain of Youth salon in Cranberry, which I chose solely because it’s Aveda-affiliated, and I have always had extremely reliable results from Aveda salons. However, finding this place was like finding that twelfth egg on Easter morning: impossible, and the longer it remains elusive the more panicked you feel. It ended up taking three phone calls, 55 minutes and a stop at the Marriott for directions before I found it, half an hour late and hyperventilating from an anxiety attack.
Which … is pretty much par for the course whenever I try to get a haircut.
So. I go in. I ask for layers. The lovely stylist delivers. It’s pretty much exactly what I was looking for: a bit of shape, a bit of bounce, and the ability to wash and go with my waves. Plus she closed out with a hand massage — unexpected, but Aveda is like that — and made the whole event a good one. I like her work.
The documentation effort was not so successful.
Attempt at selfportrait number one: Unisex bathroom at Sheetz gas station:
Attempt number two: My bathroom, with Photoshop actions:
Plus about 25 other attempts. But I just can’t bring myself to put any more pictures of my face on Flickr today.
Except this one, which shows how curly she got it.
