I need a vacation (Posted 2008)

We leave for Disney tomorrow. That should be exciting, right? Well I haven't been able to get too excited because things are happening here at the old homestead...and those things are keeping me from focusing on(or packing for) vacation. What kinds of things, you ask?

Two days ago (I think that was Friday), I needed a carseat put back in the van. My husband opened the garage door to do that for me because I had my own three children plkus the two neighbor girls. He put the seat in teh van and came back to close the garage door. When he did so the door bumped a box and the box bumped a water pipe ("and the armbone's connected to the..." and water began spraying EVERYWHERE. He had walked away toward his car to leave for work..I screamed (that water was COLD) and hurried to shut off the main water to the pipe(I am good like that in emergency sitations) and called him back. He did some swearing...and then I sent him off to work with the promise that I would have the pipe repaired before he got home.

I took a picture of the borken pipe with my cell phone and then did what ANY (insane) person would do...I shut off the main water to the house and went to my favorite coffee shop. I needed to refuel (at 8:30 am) before I took on this project.

After refueling I was off to the local hardware store. I showed Mr. Plumber-man my cell phone picture (he looked at me like I was NUTS...I thought it was ingenious). Then he proceeded to call me all sorts of nice names like "little lady". Although a bit sexist, he was incredibly helpful. I had my gear and was on my way. I called a neighbor because I always like to have an extra set of hands when doing a project...in case I electrocute myself...or in this case, drown. He came over and together we reapired the broken pipe. Hubby was impressed and I was relieved.

Not for long...Yesterday I went to buy some coffee at the local mini-mart (I think I drink a lot of coffee) to fuel up for the first time of the day. When I came home two of my kids were in front of the tv and the third was playing in the toyroom. Dave was on the computer working and bubbles were floating across my kitchen floor...the source? The dishwasher. I knew exactly what happened. I called to my beloved "Honey, did you put sink dishwashing liquid in the dishwasher". He replies "Yes, we were out of the powder". An honest mistake. He came up to see hwat was going on (at this point the kids were super-excited) and again with the swearing. He went back to work and I went to work on the bubble situation. I tried cold water from the sprayer in the sink (not helpful). I tried vinegar (sounded plausible). I tried a BUCKET of cold water (Isn't cold water supposed to get rid of bubbles?) FInally I called my best friend...she is so wise. She said to shop vac the dishwasher. I didn't have a shop vac so I improvised...I used the steamcleaner. It worked. No more bubbles and life is good...until Sunday.

Dave took our eldest to a dog show. She LOVES dogs so it was a big event for her. I decided to take the wee ones to the big rat (Chuck E Cheese). I decided to skip the coffee this morning and go with a protein shake. I was trying a new brand and I have to admit that it was PRETTY tasty. However, there we are an hour later, shoes on, ready to go out the door and my body decides that it doesn't really like that particular brand of protein. I head for the bathroom and begin to smell a burning smell..."Hmmmmmmm...What is that?" I wonder. The smell gets stronger and I hurry out of the bathroom to discover its source...#3 (in the short time I was in the bathroom) managed to pull out the iron, pick the outlet safety plug from its home in the wall and plug in the iron. Then she laid the iron on its side. This was the result:






I was flabbergasted...I had NO idea what to do (other than unplug the iron). Did I mention that this spot is RIGHT in the middle of my living room floor...RIGHT in the middle?

I did what any (insane) person would do...I grabbed my kids and went to see the big rat. We had a good time. My friend Sara (a Martha Stewart of sorts) said we could fix it. So, we went home to my house and did this:



and then finished up with this:




and then took a good look at it. I believe she said "If you step WAY back here and blurry your eye a little bit you don't even notice". So, then we ordered this:



in this color:



Here is a picture of the guilty party (in her defense she DID try to clean it up with a wipe).





Thank goodness nothing (child nor house) got seriously burned, but REALLY, can I just get out of here and start my vacation already?

What do I want to be when I grow up? (Posted 2008)

Ok, #3 has hit 2 1/2 (and all the glorious things that go along with being a full-fledged 2 year old that we won't get into right now) and I am realizing that it won't be all that long before she too goes to school. That leaves me and Brutus-the-dog home all day by ourselves (I love Brutus, but he isn't much of a conversationalist). I never used to see being home all day by myself as a problem. Dave and I had an agreement that if I didn't run us into irreparable financial ruins with my shopping habit while he was in law school then he would never ask me to go out and earn money. I held up my end of the deal so I am not require by MARRIAGE LAW to get a "real job". But, now that the wee ones are getting older the prospect of being home alone all day doesn't appeal to me as much as it once did.

Now, here's the rub...I don't know what I want to do. I mean I have a dream job in my head...I would get paid a lot of money to shop, talk on the phone and play on the computer all day. I would get to make my own hours and do the job tasks at my leisure. I could wear what I want and have great co-workers who I go out with for a drink after work sometimes (and important mandatory dinners would take place at fancy shmancy restaurants where it is almost required that you order the lobster). The job would be near my favorite coffee shop and maybe near a good manicure shop or massage parlor. Ok, so if anyone knows of a job that fits these requirements please let me know (oh, and I would prefer not to relocate...thanks).

Now, seriously, I have a legitimate problem here because I HONESTLY do not know what I want to be when I (or rather my children) grow up. Here are my skills...at least I THINK they are my skills...or people TELL ME they are my gifts...of course, I have a lot of nice friends who may just be telling me what I want to hear, but regardless...here is the list I have compiles (on the back of an envelope in purple crayon):

- I have excellent people skills: This meaning I can talk to ABSOLUTELY anyone...even some of the grumpy-faced 1st grade mothers who really hate to see me walk in the door.

- I love to feature write...like this blog. It is SUCH a stress-reliever for me. I don't even care if anyone reads it (except now I OFFICIALLY have three readers: Hi Julie, Kate and Erin!)

- I can talk on the phone like nobody's business...although sometimes it is about EVERYONE'S business (just kidding)

- I am pretty technologically savvy...I can explain ANYONE's cell phone/camera/etc to them without the manual

- I can find anything about just about ANYTHING on the net...I once took a picture with my phone of a friend's tattoo and then researched the symbol on the Internet because she wouldn't tell me what it meant...It took me less than a day to figure it out. I mean, I'm not bragging or anything, but THAT is pretty...ya know...impressive.

- I can sell ice to Eskimos...but not Mary Kay to random strangers. I am not a "cold-call" kinda gal. I like to hot calls or better yet receive hot calls - (i.e. someone calling me to say "I hear you sell Mary Kay...can I buy some from you?")

- Did I mention that I love to talk? I mean to ANYONE...#1 tells everyone a story about how I struck up a conversation with a woman at McDonald's (actually I wiped her baby's nose because it was really gross and she was wearing a front-pack carrier and couldn't see that it was almost running into the baby's mouth) and a few months later she showed up at one of my Mary Kay parties with a friend of mine who came. Small world. She remembered me as "that chatty girl from McDonald's who wiped her infant's nose".

- I am pretty motivated...and organized...well, except for my house...and my car. But I am REALLY organized when I am 1st grade room mom (or Kindergarten for that matter as I have successfully completed a year as such)

Now, I think that gives you a pretty good idea of what I CAN do...let's list what I might not consider to be my strong points:

- I hate bodily fluids...I only say this because it seems that ALL my friends ship their youngest child off to Kindergarten and head to nursing school...not for me. I don't do bodily fluids unless they are mine or my offspring's (and even that gets kinda hairy sometimes)

- I don't want to work weekends

- I don't want to work FREQUENT evenings (notice I said FREQUENT...and put it in caps...I am willing to go to an occasional dinner at a fancy restaurant and have fillet Mignon while drinking wine and talking business once in a while if I must...but this cannot be every night...and late nights at the desk just aren't gonna happen)

- I don't want anyone's life to depend on what I do. Originally I went into Mary Kay because I thought "making people pretty isn't too stressful...it will be fun". See, I didn't want to sell defibrillators. I knew straight-away that it was too much stress. One malfunctions and I could never live with myself.

- Oh, oh...I don't want to lift boxes. I realize that this would get me into shape, but if you read my last blog then you understand my feelings on exercise - and I think the dress code would discourage boots with 4 inch heels.

So, this is my dilemma...WHAT can you do with these fine skills? NADA...Nothing...Zip. In all seriousness I would love to do one of a number of things

...be an admissions counselor for a college (but I am 15 credits away from a college degree...I am willing to bet that they want someone who actually HAS a degree to interview people hoping to EARN a degree...just a good policy, I think)

...a travel agent (downfall: may require weekend work AND sitting in an office for lots of hours...could mean a bigger butt?)

...an outside sales person (Just can't figure out WHAT to sell or who to sell it to...would probably have to take a class to actually LEARN some sales skills...Mary Kay didn't quite ready me for pharmaceutical sales)

So...help? Suggestions?? Wanna draw up my resume? Hire me? Let me know if you come up with anything fabulous because as of right now I am probably going to end up sitting at home (yeah, right) with Brutus-the-dog watching soap opera's...ok, that is a bit of a stretch. I will probably end up shopping and spending a bunch of money running us into the debt that Dave worried about in law school. Yeah, I better get an idea...soon.

My weight loss....Or not. (Postd 2008)

First of all, let me give you a disclaimer: I will joke/poke fun/ridicule myself in this blog. I do the same thing in person. I do not have low self-esteem, nor am I fishing for compliments. I am simply a girl who is pretty comfortable with herself and has a knack for self-deprecating humor. Ok, so no comments to "pep me up" or argue with me about my big butt...I KNOW it is a big butt and I am fine with it...mostly.

That said, I will now tell you a story. My 7 year old is a super-sensitive gal. She "confesses" something almost every night: talking on the bus when she shouldn't be, tapping her crayon on the grey school carpet to see if it will leave a mark if she taps "really lightly"...you get the point. Well, one night she was particularly bothered by something that she refused to reveal to me. She only wanted to talk to her daddy. I was a little surprised by this as I am usualy on the receiving end of her soul cleansing. But whatever, it let me off the hook for the night.

My husband came downstairs a few minutes later and looked a little "flushed" (and maybe a little amused). I asked him what her confession was and he hem-hawed around until he finally said "She thinks you have a big butt". I was a little taken aback by this. I mean I KNEW I had a big butt...I know I wear a size 14 (a tight 12 if I really try and there is some stretch mixed in with the cotton) jeans, but was this really confession-worthy? I head upstairs because I can still hear my little guilt-ridden lady sobbing. I crawl in next to her and tell her that I know she thinks I have a big butt and that this is ok. She replies that she feels guilty because she knows it is what is INSIDE that matters and I have a beautiful inside...and she went on to say that I had a beautiful outside too, but just a big butt. She didn't think she should have these thoughts. I had a talk with her about how this was simply OBSERVATION and you can't help what you observe as long as you don't comment on it. She seems settled and I headed downstairs...to the treadmill.

This begins the journey of weight loss for me. I have tried (sometimes successfully and sometimes unsuccessfully) to lose weight in the past and I eventually my lost pounds return. I can never figure out why. Well, THIS time I am on it...I am going to lose some of my big butt (not too much mind you...my husband likes a girl with some junk in her trunk) and keep it off so I can ease my daughter's conscience. This is my mindset. I am on it. I can do it...

That was 4 weeks ago. I have had little to no success. I have eaten more protein than I care to remember and I have been drinking just ask much (the shakes are NOT pleasant, but yet I sacrifice). I am trying to eat 1500 calories, 150 carbs and 150 grams of protein. I journal. I deprive myself. My scale never changes. My friends said "Oh, you must be gaining muscle"...tough to do if you don't exercise. So, maybe that IS the problem. I really am not big on exercise. In my brain I wear nice work-out clothes and pop in my iPod earbuds...I hop on outside and run...Problem is I don't own ONE pair of sweatpants nor do I really like sneakers...they make me short. And, as I have discovered, you can't run so well in 3 inch heels. (We won't even get into my issues with sports bras)So, where does that leave me? I just am not sure. I bought a dvd just a few months ago. It was Carmen Electra's "Strip tease aerobics". I thought this was a great concept...learn a little something while burning the calories. It is still in the cellophane. It intimidates me. I am not the most coordinated individual in the world. I am a really good dancer...when I have had some drinks. There is a reason I haven't taken ballroom dancing. I just don't think I am coordinated enough. And striptease? WOW...that is BIG step. I am going to work up to it. That video haunts me from my counter. I WILL do it...I think I can do it without sneakers. I have to find a time to do it thought...can't be practicing the old bedroom dancing with the young'uns around, right? I really am going to take off the cellophane...tomorrow.

Meanwhile, let's analyze dieting: In my world it just doesn't work. I research only to discover that protein is good (but watch out for tuna because it will give you mercury poisoning and your hair will fall out...what is the point of being skinny if you are bald?), carbs are bad although the latest experts I have heard from (like last week on the Today show) say that carbs, especially the potatoes are helpful in dieting. Low-fat is bad because there is too much sugar. Sugar substitutes are bad because they make you hungry. You need lots of fiber, but watch the grains because they have the always forbidden carbs. Water is good...everybody agrees on that. Everything causes cancer...soy, sugar substitutes, diet soda (which also, I guess, turns into like cyanide in your guts)...you name it. So, with all this information I have decided that this is the diet plan I should follow: No carbs except potatoes, high protein foods (except tuna...and steak and most breakfast meats...oh and lunch meats...so basically: eat organic chicken only with your potatoes), fiber...but low carb fiber, please. And no sugar, soy, sugar substitutes and carbs. Be careful of fruit...you may think that eating fruit all the time is healthy, but you are confused my friend, although fruit is a rockin' source of fiber there are carbs in fruit so put down the bananas.


How can ANYONE lose weight with these conflicting messages? But, people do. I am going to keep on working to be one of THOSE people...you know, the ones whose kids DON'T lose sleep over the size of their mother bottoms? That will be me...it just might take a little more time (in sneakers) than I thought it would. For now, I will continue to blame the chocolate smell.

Walking Man (Posted in 2008)

There is a man who walks here in my town. I see him every day without fail. He walks and he walks and he walks. He is very tall...he looks kind of like a lumberjack. He walks along the same route every day all hunched over in his flannel zip up shirt and big boots...his big arms swinging at his side. He has a full red beard and lots of thick red hair and I am curious about him. I have asked around and everyone just says the same thing "Oh, you mean Crazy Walker Man". Yep, Crazy Walker Man...that no one knows ANYTHING about. Now, I am not too concerned about Crazy Walker Man because he obviously gets decent meals because he is HUGE and it takes a lot of calories to sustain all that weight while doing all that walking. He also looks pretty clean so he must have somewhere to cleanse himself.

When I first moved to the town I always thought he was just walking to the bus stop each morning and our schedules just coincided...not the case. No matter what time I travel down that road Crazy Walking Man is walking either to or from the bus stop area...swinging his arms, head down...just walking.

Am I too old (Posted 2008)

Ok, I am so lost when it comes to shopping anymore. I used to be quite fashionable and frequently gave others advice. But, now, here I am in this thirty-something period where I just have no idea what is appropriate. I know what I enjoy. I know what I hate, but I don't know what an almost-32-year-old woman wears without looking A) like she is trying too hard to hold on to her youth (which, by the way, I am NOT...I embrace each age without a problem...so far) or B) my mother (not that there is anything wrong with my mother's style, but come on, there IS a 30 year age gap).

I can usually ignore this issue because i have three small children and that simply doens't allow me the freedom to go to the mall and spend lots of hours and lots of money. So, I usually get by with what I have which isn't hideous, but certainly won't put my on Parenting Magazine's Most Fashionable Mommies list anytime soon. (No, I don't think they have such a list, but it makes my point).

But, this issue can no longer be ignored. We are going to Disney and to see some family in Florida in a mere 5 weeks. My parents are already in Florida, having left this past afternoon Saturday. In the name of keeping my sanity at the airport, I packed and sent our suitcases with my parents in their RV. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but upon further inspection (on,say, Saturday morning)I realized that I had purchased the children SO many cute matching things (yep, on vacation I am THAT mom), but I had neglected to purchase myself anything...not even anything near-cute...nothing at all. I pulled out all my old things...and I do mean old in the literal sense...and was very dismayed to see that I existed last summer (when I thought I may have been pretty stylish) in layered wife-beaters and distresed denim capris/bermuda shorts. This may be ok for ramming around the playgrounds, but this is CERTAINLY not what I want all my Disney pictures to capture me wearing...I mean this is FOREVER. I became very disturbed...to the point where my husband took my shopping for some new things. Hmmmmm...this is where is gets truly alarming.

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHOP!! If I don't have the Chico's girl there to put it all together for me I am useless! I used to have quite the dangerous shopping habit, but now I am a shopping moron. I couldn't decide on a store...I couldn't decide on a style. I mean, you are walking a lot in Disney and I know I don't want to be in my bare feet because my stilettos (note: Stilettos are a bit of a stretch...high-heeled boots may be a little more accurate)gave me a blister...but I hate sneakers...with a passion. That leaves the tried and true flip flops...I am ok 14 hours walking in flip flops...really I am.

Ok, fast forward, we arrive at the mall. We go to Kohls...can't find anything long-day of walking picture worthy in there...Saw some distressed demin on their website, but they don't have them in stock yet...of course.

I am off with my beloved to walk the mall. Kirby always says graet things about American Eagle...Ok, I decide to try there. My husband feels like a pervert in there because most of the very short shorts would fit my 7 year old. But Kirby swears by the belts in there...I fond none worthy of buying. Besides I am having anxiety over my last visit to AE...Let me flashback to THAT lovely experience for a moment:

(Before Christmas) My mom and I and ALL THREE kids go to the mall jeans shopping. My friend Susan had some terrific looking distressed jeans on a preschool dro-off and she told me she got them at AE. She couldnt' share clothes with my 7 year old so I am hopeful that there will jeans for me at the store.

My kind (and slightly crazy) mother takes the children across the mall to the TOY STORE...ugh...while I head into AE. I am greated by the cutest little girl...really, I think she was 12...I just wanted to put "Tiffany" into my pocket and carry her home...she was really teeny.

Tiffany cheerfully...very cheerfully...asked my what I was looking for. I told her about Susan's distressed jeans and she lead me to a rack. I can hear my children ACROSS the mall laughing and being loud...I must speed this up. I say "Tiffany, I want these jeans" to which she replies..."this fit"? I asked about the fit...She says "Well, they are tighter in through the thighs...I am wearing them right now (I was unaware that they made children's sizes in AE)..." and then she said - Are you ready for it - "You can see that I don't have much of a butt so they fit me pretty well"...I just stood there for a moment and then replied "Can you show me the big booty jeans"...She lead me to the distressed jeans that might fit someone with some junk in their trunk a little more flatteringly (is that a word?). So, I look at them and they seem good...I say "I will take them". My little stick-figure friend replies "What size?" I take a deep breath because I don't want to tell this little twig what size I wear (although I am pretty comfortable with my size most of the time) and at the same time I can here my monsters heading my way. I quickly say "A size 13 please". Silence. Skinny says "Oh, we are going to have to SPECIAL ORDER that size"....That's right...SPECIAL FREAKIN' ORDER! She leads me to a phone in the sea of stick people and dials a number...tells the phone pencil-sized person (I'm sure) that I need a special size in the distressed jeans. She gives all my info including my size *gasp* and then hands the phone over to me who is standing there with a 4 year old hanging on my oversized unsytlish pants and a 2 year old crying in the stroller while my 7 year old says "Who are you talking to mommy"? I give my information and thankk Too-skinny...I mean Tiffany and head home. Thankfully the jeans were delivered to my door free of charge and I loved them. End of story.

(Back to the present) I leave AE unsatisfies...and call Kirby to tell him that he gives bad advice...and head over to JCPenney. I decide I am just "at that age"...stores like AE don't work for me anymore....except for that one pair of jeans. I find on cute tee in Penneys that has some cute saying about saving trees and stuff. So, there I was with one shirt to go to Disney...terrific.

I decide to try Aeropostale...I wasn't convinced that I was too old for this store because it is where I buy my most flattering jeans. So, we head in there and I run into #1's teacher. Well, surely if Mrs. E was in there then I wasn't too old...she has teenagers for crying out loud. I did consider the fact that she was shopping for her two teenage girls, but then she showed me what she was buying for HER so I felt better. I asked her daughters if I was too old for a half-sip beeded logo hoodie and they assured me that I was not...like they would tell me the truth anyway. Well, I ended up purchasing this



in two colors as well as coordinating tanks and these bermuda shorts.


I immediately came home, ordered the distressed denim shorts from Kohls


and put everything - including a few of my own tried and true items - into my suitcase. It is all in Georgia on it's way to Florida. I will see it when I arrive at Disney. My question...am I told old for these items? Please be honest! Please! Should I just bite the bullet and buy everything from "comfortable" stores?



I know that stores like Penneys and Kohls and others certainly have nice things, but they don't "feel" like me. I do occassionally buy from Chicos (more often then I should), but I really only like their winter stuff. I buy from Coldwater Creek because some of their stuff is a little trendier, but it is also harder to wear when you spend your days giving horsey rides and wiping the various body parts of short people (those being my children...I do not randomly approach vertically challenged people to wipe their various parts). Anyway, I welcome suggestions...and I think I may put up a vote on here...let me know. Shopping is on hold until I hear from you.

A SAD, SAD DAY (Posted in 2008)

I waited all day...or so it seemed. My appointment was really only at 2:15, but my handome 4 year old got me up at 4:22 am so 2:15 seemed like all day. Regardless, it was FINALLY time...My hair. My eyebrows...I was ready.

I hop in the van and head for my place of peace. I arrive at the salon a few minutes early...I want time to lie down on the comfy couch before I park my hiney in the spinny chair for 4 hours. As I recline I tell my good friends, Kirby and Delilah about my morning. They listen and joke. Before long it is my turn...

Into the spinny chair I go so Kirby can begin to squeeze my boring locks between pieces of foil to make them heart-stoppingly gorgeous...or at least more exciting. As he begins he speaks words that I prayed to never hear: "I got a new job". My heart sinks. Then it races. I am speechless. I had a feeling this day was coming. Kirby is talented. He is gifted. He is SKILLED. He took a part-time job less than a year ago working for a major hair supply company teaching color to salon owners and other stylists. He liked it. I knew he was good at it...how could he not be. But the day had come...even though he swore it would not. I didn't know what to say..."You're leaving me"? He just smiled and said "I have to...it is a great opportunity...a full-time job". I say "Well that just sucks".

So, as he went about foiling my hair and then giving me the extra-dirty hair washing I have come to look so forward to, I just enjoyed. I relaxed and took in all the wonderful things about Kirby and his shop...the big screen tv, the food, the drinks, the comfy couch, his tattoes, red spiky mohawk (kinda)...and the friendship.

I will miss you, Kirby...and don't worry Delilah, I will be in for the wax again soon...I love you both.

The Wizard and The Goddess (Posted 2008)

I love my hair people. I mean I REALLY love my hair people. I love having my hair done. I don't know which part if my favorite...probably the washing. My Hair Wizard gives a great hair washing. I always make sure to tell him that my hair is extra dirty so that he has to scrub it twice. I think he just does it to be nice.

I met Kirby for the first time when my former hair stylist of 18 years went to Vegas for an extended vacation and I had roots...I mean LOTS of roots. My friend Sara had been singing the praises of Kirby and Delilah for months and I have to tell you that I was intrigued...her hair always looked fabulous. The roots were looking particularly bad one day so I fished out the business card. There is was in my hand...cheating on my hairstylist...almost like cheating on a spouse. I mean, I had been with her longer than Dave. It felt unfaithful. It felt dirty. But my hair was looking pretty ridiculous so I made the call. The Eyebrow Goddess took my information and there it was...my first appointment with Kirby.

I showed up and nearly turned around and left. The pair that greeted me were not quite was I was expecting. Kirby looked like Prince Harry...except taller...and tattoed...Really tattoed...his arms were covered with them. Did I mention that he had a mohawk...well, kinda. And Delilah...she was also quite tattoed (on the back of her neck? MUST have hurt!) and also wearing camoflauge. Women in camo have been known to scare me a little bit...unless it's pink...nobody wearing pink fatigues can really be taken as any sort of serious threat. But she was wearing ACTUAL camoflauge...scary. (Did I mention that SHE was going to put hot wax on my face to remove unwanted hair? At this point I was thinking that I should have done a scouting trip first). So when my mohawked, tattoed, soon-to-be-permanently-coloring-my-hair hair guy asked how I was I immediately replied all honesty "I am terrified...anxiety ridden...I haven't eaten all day..." He laughed and patted my shoulder "You will be fine". And I was.

What I thought was going to be a stressful 3 hours turned into a fun-filled 4 1/2 hour visit. The time passed quickly...as it turns out Kirby and Delilah and I got along famously. It was great. Then he was finished. It was time for the "great reveal". He turned me around and I just stared. (There may have been a gasp)...My hair looked EXACTLY like it always had. No mohawk...no weirdo red coloring in it...Not too dark...not to light...perfection.

Now, you must understand. I am not really a vain person. I just really like my hair to look nice. (If you must know the truth I have a bit of a make-up habit too.)If your hair (and make-up)looks great it doesn't matter if your wearing a ratty old track suit and beat up sneakers. Hair (and make-up) never makes you feel fat. I really feel like hair (and make-up) is important. It is my one (or two)splurge(s)...and at Kirby's it isn't really even a splurge. I was thrilled to find out that he charged less that my former hair person.

So, I am going to the Hair Wizard and the Eyebrown Goddess...tomorrow. I am SO excited. I will tell you the truth...I love it there. I love them. Really...I do. I now take all my kids there for haircuts...on separate days to maximize visitation with my skilled friends. They have an incrediblly comfy couch that I have been known to plop down on and not get up for a ridiculously long period of time. They have a big screen TV and Delilah knows exactly what channels the best cartoons are on. They have an endless candy supply...and they even like my kids...I am pretty sure. I have referred 5 or 6 of my friends to go there. I don't know why...I totally should have kept them as my secret. I have even had a problem getting an appointment a time or two...I was VERY unhappy about that. My mom comes from 1 1/2 hours away to visit the Wizard...he is THAT good.

But when it is MY turn it is me and me alone. Nobody is allowed to accompany me. It is my favorite 4 1/2 hours every couple of months...and not just because of the INCREDIBLE hairwashing. I am going to go to sleep now and dream of slean, well-cut, beautifully died hair with even well-arched eyebrows to match. I will post some pictures tomorrow...after my pampering session.