I sound tough, don't I? I'm trying to build myself up. Get a little courage...get a little gutsy...step waaaaayyyyyy outside of my comfort zone.
Like, waaaaayyyyyyyy outside.
So...I got my hair cut yesterday. To say I was looking forward to it, is a HUGE understatement. I was giddy, ecstatic, overjoyed at the prospect of getting my "Hot Mom Hair" back!
I asked for "stacked" and "inverted"...but, perhaps I was speaking gibberish. In fact, I'm now convinced that I was speaking gibberish...because I didn't get stacked OR inverted.
What I got was more, "Hi, I'm a middle aged woman trying to look like I could be young enough to be a fan of Justin Biebers"...or is it Jason Beiber? James Beeber? Who the heck is this kid?
All I know is that my stylist was a fan of his. I think I should have taken that as my first clue that things weren't gonna go so well!
Now I have "Twelve Year Old Girl Hair". And, lemme tell ya...on a 33 year old mama, it ain't so cute.
I need to show you...
So...here I sit. Chewing my nails...afraid to hurt feelings...worried about "confrontation"...wondering if I should just suck it up and not say a word.
(ACK! I hate this!!)
I need some Big Girl Panties...and STAT! Please? The bigger the better...I've gotta be the world's biggest wimp.
Do you think you could come hold my hand while I make this call? I'm not sure my intestines can handle this.
Or...better yet...will you just call for me?
I've got some chocolate covered strawberries I could give you? :D