"The Chef of Salon de la Salon"

His hands moved so fast, they were one big blur before my eyes. He was like an Asian chef, the flashing of shiny metal, chopping sounds and pieces of his art project flying left and right. He talked to himself, words of approval and the look of a perfectionist crossed his facial features. I held my breath and blinked away the tiny hairs that flew into my face. I sat very still, afraid that one wrong move might mean the loss of an ear or eyebrow. He shouted at the onlookers to appreciate his expertise and demanded their praise. He was a professional, performing to a rhythm no one else could match. In a flash, he was finished, mere minutes passing like sand slipping from my clenched hand. "Hwa-la!" he said, while spinning me around in the chair, my eyes trying to focus on the face in the mirror. I slowly raised my trembling hand to touch the feather like remains that were still attached to my head. My mind needed a moment to adjust and I felt momentarily light headed...literally. He sung to me, "Well girlfriend, don't you just adore it, or what?!"................

I did......I adored it, he was right! Piles of hair covered the floor around me and I began to run my hands through this new do. Other women around me said, "Damn girl, you are brave!" and I felt courageous. I walked in with long tresses and within moments I sat there looking like a newly hatched baby chick....and I loved it. He gave me quick instructions as I stared at myself in that mirror....I made my next 6 week appointment...still staring...paid the bill...looking at my reflection....got into my car and pulled down the visor so I could look at myself some more...smiling. I drove home, periodically looking at myself in the rear view mirror to make sure it was still me. It was.

So, here's to all of you....a grateful "Thank You" for the added support and kind words that helped me get through this slightly painful, but totally worth it, experience.

(I feel sassy, somewhat sexy and definitely liberated... :)