I dread trips to the hairdresser.
It may have something to do with the money they want from me (USA - MUCH cheaper than Switz!) or perhaps from the disapproving looks I receive when they see the state of my [very] unkempt hair.
All this happened today. That, and the Southern hairdresser trying to give me as big of a head of hair as hers.
Then, when I sweeetly explained what I wished for my hair, she stabbed me with her treacherously long fingernail.
And, due to the fact that I asked for it thinned (thin-haired people have no idea about what we thick-haired people go through!) she gave me up for lost.
And when I got home I found a rather large chunk of my hair missing. Up top.
Spite. Pure spite.
Other than that, I'm loving my thin and much-healthier, albeit 3 inches shorter, looking hair.
Thanks, Southern hairdresser-lady with lots of hair!