Open Letter
It was inevitable. With my last haircut taking place way back in the foggy memories of August, it was either get my hair cut or cut it myself. If my hair grows much past my chin, I start looking like this, only not on purpose:
It's what my hair likes to do when left to itself. Don't get me wrong, she was great in her day, but it's just not me. So this morning I marched myself to the hair salon (the bajillionth one I've tried in 8 years of living here--Josh commented to me that he doesn't think I've seen the same hairstylist twice. He's almost right!) and came out with this:
*yawns* It's okay. But definitely not what I asked for. Again. AND! This time, the lady cutting it had the exact haircut I wanted, which I thought would make things super-easy. I basically told her, "I'll have what you have." And got something entirely different. Fine, acceptable, but different.
SO. I give you an open letter to my sister-in-law:
Dear Andrea,
You are the only person on earth who has ever understood what I wanted in a haircut and done it. Would you please convince your husband to move down here and set up shop in Jacksonville? Thank you soooooooo much!
Love,
Joanna
Joanna
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