I love the Army life. I love the independence I am forced to find within myself and the resiliency it teaches my children. I love that I have lived in so many places and that we can explore this great nation and show our children the world. I love how many friends I have made and that my Christmas card list includes several different countries and 3/4 of the United States. However, I do not love the moving, I love the new places and exploration, but I do not love the actual moving part. The actual packing (yes someone moves us…that’s a different post for a different time), the driving across the country, the unpacking, and the establishment of a new routine. One thing I specifically dislike, finding a new hair salon!
I do not have crazy hair, its long and straight and I only need a trim every few months but I was lucky enough to inherit the early to grey gene and have had grey hair since my mid twenties (I know you’re thinking…What?? I thought you were barely 21…thank you!). So when we move I try to have my hair colored as close to move out date as possible so that I can get through the stress and frustrations of PCSing (permanent change of station for my civilian friends). This move (Kansas to Georgia) I did not prepare well and found myself in GA with what I like to call my skunk look, that awesome strip of grey that screams at me every time I look in the mirror.
We do not live in the most metropolitan town and I loathe (actually fear if I’m being honest) driving, so finding a salon close was important, but so was quality color and expertise. After reaching out to fellow army wives, stalking Facebook pages and looking at every woman that walked past me and asking “who does your hair”, I made some calls and settled on…the one that could get me in the soonest. I figured if was awful I could try somewhere else and if all else failed fly to KS and have my stylist there fix it ($$$$).
Y’all it wasn’t awful at all. The salon reminded me a little of the salon like the one on Steel Magnolias and the super sweet southern grandma type that met me at the door had quite the bouffant, think…
So I was a little concerned that I too would have a stellar bouffant when I left. I met my stylist…she was from the city, young and had great hair. I felt good. I sat down and we hit it off from the beginning, you know stylist are like bartenders in that you can tell them anything and they never judge and always agree with you…right?
When it was all said and done…I loved it!! And the price could not be beat. I forgot that living in southern Georgia was much cheaper than living in the city.
I walked out and drove home feeling refreshed and even a little sexy. I immediately texted my girls/my tribe to make sure I looked how I thought I did. I walked in the house and J loved it, the C’s loved it and I loved it…and the I remembered…
I FORGOT TO TIP HER
I have an appointment in 2 weeks and I am a little concerned that she is going to think I am the worst human being ever and will color my hair some awful color and “accidentally” shave half of my hair. That’s crazy I know. I immediately called the salon and of course they were closed but I was able to reach them the next day and apologize profusely and I wrote the best 5 star review for her and the salon. All should be ok. I hope… stay tuned.