Karma, or this is what you get when you throw your daughter under the bus...

First, let me say how nice it is to be able to blog again!  I turned in the final portfolio for my non-fiction class today, so I-Am-Done!!!  I'm trying to decide if I can/should take the advanced writing class next semester, or if I should give my poor, wearied mind a break.  My thoughts on this change about every 5 minutes.

Anyhoo, I'm long overdue for a post, so here goes. :o)

Back in October, Savannah and I were both in desperate need of a haircut, so we headed off to my favorite hair cutting place. The cost is reasonable, it's not too far from home, and my favorite stylist gives the most incredible, relaxing scalp massages that I've ever received.  I seriously would go in daily if I could afford it, just for the massage! 

Anyway, when Savannah and I got there, there were only two stylists: My favorite, hereafter referred to as the Angel, and scary-haired skunk-head.  Skunk-head had given me my last haircut, and I never could quite get it to style as well as it normally does.  Savannah has also had her for a previous cut, just to get her bangs trimmed, and she hated them.  They looked fine to me...

"Who wants to go first?" skunk girl asked, her enthusiasm about like mine when I go for a root canal.

"She does!" Savannah and I both emphatically said, looking at one another simultaneously.


I had been watching the angel work on her current customer and could see that she was nearly finished.  It had been three long months since she had last cut my hair, and my scalp was not going to be deprived!

Pulling the "Mommy" card, I firmly told Savannah: "You go first.  I'll go ahead and wait a minute longer," trying to make it sound like I was doing a selfless service.  I'm sure the poor girl could tell that neither of us wanted her to touch our hair, but what could I do?  Savannah trudged over to her chair, resignedly, barely speaking two words throughout the entire haircut.

For the record?  I thought her hair looked fine.  After all, how much damage can be done to just a trim?  Savannah, of course, disagreed.  Feeling more than a little guilty for throwing her under the bus like I did, I gave an oath in blood that from now on I would only take her to MasterCuts in the mall, her favorite.  

As for me?  My massage was divine, as was the haircut!

Now let's fast forward to a week ago...

I again needed a haircut, so I stopped off at the salon on Monday.  As I drove into the parking lot, I could see skunk-head sitting, reading a magazine, waiting for some hapless customer.

Ha!  It was not going to be me, so off I drove...

Wednesday night I drove by again.  I really needed a haircut.  I could see only one stylist working through the window, one I knew did a decent job, even if she wasn't the angel.  In I went. 

"What can we do for you?" she asked, taking a break from the person's hair that she was working on.

"I just need a good trim," I answered, already heading towards the magazine rack to settle in for the wait.

Suddenly, appearing from her lair in the back where she'd been lying in wait, came skunk-head.

So, now my bangs are half-an-inch too short (this, after I very carefully told her that I didn't want to look like a kindergartener - leave them a little below the eyebrows) and decidedly crooked.

Crap... Guess that's what I had coming.