Wednesday, November 17, 2010

In (My) New York Minute…

Things I’ve consumed this morning:  (2) 1 large coffee with a dash of soy milk, one organic homemade pumpkin muffin

Times I’ve laughed this morning: (100)  I’ve had a very smiley morning and I can’t complain at all. 

Major Breakthroughs: (1)  I need a hair cut.  Unless I’m auditioning to be a cast regular in Hair, this mane needs a little snip.  What is it with my hair?  I hate how I’ve become that girl.  The one who is scared of a hair cut; who just can’t part with it.  If I could find the French dude who gave my “the bob” I would tell him that this is all his fault.  Before turning 24 I was never once scared to get my hair cut.  I thought those girls who cried as their hairdressers chopped was lame; very lame.  “What’s the big deal?” I’d say.  Well, now my friends, I understand that it is indeed a very big deal. 

Since this is a place of sharing; a safe place, if you will, I will let you in on a secret.  I’m addicted to my hippie hair.  I love it.  It makes me feel beautiful.  It can be sassy and straight, sexy and wavy (on a very very lucky day), or insubordinate and curly.  I’ve had good hair days that have made me feel like Giselle.  I’ve had bad hair days that have resulted in me assuming the fetal position on my bed.  I’ve had someone run their fingers through my curly mane and get caught (I guess that’s one way to keep ‘em).  I’ve been “pet” by women, men, and young children.  It’s my “curtain.”  It can make or break an outfit.  It can make or break an evening.  It’s all mine and I love it. 

If you don’t like my hippie hair, you can watch my lovely mane blowing in the New York City breeze as I walk away :)

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