Hair.

I have a lot of hair.

Like...a LOT of hair.

Those who know me, know that I have a lot of hair. Always have. And for the last 6 years, it's been long, and thick, and really, REALLY hard to manage.

I think I kept it as a sort of protective measure, like an armour.

Also, I'm lazy when it comes to my hair. Because I have SO G****** much of it, I needed to figure out a way to manage it.

Which is where "The Bun" came from.

Ah, The Bun. My best hair-friend over the last few years. I would say that 90% of my morning-hair-rituals consisted of getting up, putting hair in bun, leaving house.
Except for those few months in London where I had to struggle with that damned FRINGE (bangs to my Canadian contingent...of two....).

Anyway, blah, blah, blah.

Yesterday, I went to my lovely hairstylist Debra, and said "CUT IT!! CUT IT NOW!! NOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!! ALL OF IT DO IT DO IT NOW!!!!".

Being the professional she is, she suggested we take it step by step. Meaning: because I have SO MUCH G****** hair, why don't we take it up a few inches, and "texturize" it.

Texturizing hair: creating volume and layers by using "thinning" scissors on thick, unruly hair.

So as you can see from the picture below post, Deb didn't take off length so much as she took OUT approximately 5 pounds of hair from the insides.

I should have taken a picture to all of the sad, abandoned hair left behind on the cold, dark floor of the salon.

Please notice the mass of hair in the BEFORE picture, followed by the few pictures of my new, awesomely LIGHT, SWINGY hair!!!

ABOVE: BEFORE (from "The 'Ball'")

NOW: SWINGY AND LIGHT!! WOOT!!!

These pictures were taken by me, as The Captain is ripping it up in Manhattan as I type this.

(I am me, the Universe & U)

The Subconcious.

Last night I had a dream:

It was Saturday morning, and I was on platform 13 at London Bridge Station, waiting for the train to Peckham Rye.

On a whim, I had flown to London on Friday night, hoping to surprise Heather and the family by visiting them for one day, and flying back Sunday afternoon.

I had planned the trip perfectly, bringing only enough money for a weekend Rail/Tube pass, a curry, a 20-pound top-up on my UK mobile, approximately 10 pints and a trip to Borough market.

Nervous and shaking, with tears in my eyes and smiling ear-to-ear, I arrived on the front steps of the Anderwoods home.

Knock-knock. Waiting, waiting. Shuffling from foot-to-foot in the brisk, spring air.

Heather opens the door and sees me...stunned. She doesn't say anything as I start to squeal and throw my arms around her. We both start laughing, pulling back to look at each other then hugging again.

Suddenly, I'm in the living room with Heather, Fred, Rocco and even Dave, all snuggling on the big, leather couch. Talking and laughing. So happy to be together, if only for a day.

I woke up warm from the memory, but sad that the reality is so far away...

...or is it??

The "Ball".

Allison and The Jells were kind enough to invite me and The Captain along to the annual Canstage Theatre Ball, at which Jells company had a table.

And since I am never one to turn down the offer of attending a ball, we graciously accepted.

The theme was "A Night in Mykonos", and the dress was "Greek Summer White". Whatever the eff that means. Not having anything white to wear, paired with the fact that my skin hasn't seen sun in 6 months, I opted to wear the gorgeous blue dress I bought in London for Alicia's wedding. Aptly called my "London dress".

Being the youngest table of people by at least twenty years (slight exaggeration), we took full advantage of the open bar....but still wound up leaving by 10:30pm.

Regardless! It was still a ball. Old, rich people were dressed to the nines, and spent WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too much money on useless auction items (e.g. a gold ring with a gaudy matching bracelet) that could have been given to a much-more-worthy cause than the Canstage. Yep. I said it.

Still, it was a fun night, and incredibly wonderful to get all dolled up for the first real "outing" with The Captain.

Apologies for a lack of pictures...my camera didn't fit in my teeny tiny purse that is strictly reserved for events like this. These are from The Captain's camera. I will try to hijack some from Allison to add at a later date.

Very James Bond.

Note: LOST THE HAIR. Bang.

The Captain: My handsome date.

Caroline, Allison and The Jells.

The Jells engaging The Captain and Walshie.

Handsome men.

Summer Greek?

Got those pictures...



Pretty ladies!

Rocking out at the ball.