One step closer to bald.....

As I walked in from the pouring rain into one of those fancy salons Saturday night, I was certain the receptionist thought I'd come in to collect her spare change. With the hood on my green fleecy coat up over my head to hide the sickly Pippy Longstocking-like braids held together with Gwen's rejected hair prettys poking out, I looked hideous, felt awful and well, wet.

I showed up without an appointment, of course, mostly because that's the kind of unorganized, inconsiderate person I am and because shoot! I haven't been to a salon in 3 years - I don't remember how any of this stuff goes! But I've always been lucky and just to prove it, one of the junior (meaning affordable) stylists had a cancellation seconds before my sodden appearance at the door. Even luckier still my stylist was amazing! Check this out...



Ok, this is the before picture. Look at that dank stringy mess!








And this is the after. Yeah, baby!








Ok so maybe it does look a little too Molly-Ringwald-Sixteen-Candles-I-Love-the-80's, but I don't care because damn I was tired of attacking that nasty, ratty, tangly mess with a gallon of hair product every morning and still ending up looking at best like I just got out of bed.

The best part is I was able to cut off those 10" long braids, the minimum length required to donate to Locks of Love. They will take my hair and make a wig (or two) out of it for the super-unfortunate child out there who is both suffering through chemo and suffering with the the same curly red hair as me. Poor baby!