Say Hello to my New Friend, Bob!

Yet another benefit of moving back to the Island–I can go back to my favorite hair stylist in the world.

She’s a miracle worker, who has never lost a battle with my frizzy, wicked witch-like hair.  She gets bonus points for working in a salon that’s in a grand historical house.  (I feel like the lady of the manor every time I turn up for an appointment.)

This time I was ready for a change.

“I want a bob,” I announced as soon as my bottom hit the chair.

“That’s quite a bit shorter,” she replied,  demonstrating a cut a few inches along a strand of wiry hair.  “It would be a great length on you, but it’s going to be a change.  Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”  I nodded.

*                             *                          *

Post cut and wash, I got a good look at my hair.

“Eek!”  I squealed.  “It’s so short!”

“You said you wanted a bob!” she squealed, a look of panic on her face.  “It’s not really that short.  Look, you still can still put it in a ponytail.”

A few deep breaths later, I was in a better head space (and over the initial shock of losing a few inches.)

“You know, I think I might want to go even shorter,” I announced.

“Why don’t you just get used to this length first,” my wise stylist suggested.