I’ve finally accepted that fact that I don’t live in Calgary anymore. Yes, all my family who read this will cry and say - “wow we thought she’d dwell in self denial for much longer than this” but no. I’m to the point where I have to branch out and accept I’m in a new city and with that comes the biggest transition known to woman kind - finding a new hairdresser! I thought foolishly that perhaps I could just make weekly trips up to Lydia over the next few years, she was amazing with a round brush and could beat my hair into submission like none other. Sadly, the odds of this actually occurring are much like that of my winning the Lottery and not buying a ticket. SLIM baby SLIM!

I’ve even tried holding off and focusing on my children, not allowing myself to realize the rats nest atop my head. It’s looking shabby and I feel my energy level sinking low whenever I look in the mirror and behold whatever my hair has become without Lydia to guide it.

So I have an appointment at a new salon today with Kevin (don’t tell Lydia), who the lady assures me will whip my hair into a round brushin’ frenzy. We’ll see after I take it for a spin how I feel. For now I’m only allowing a shampoo/style and we’ll take it baby steppin’ from there. No cutting or coloring if you can’t straighten my hair properly, that’s my rule. It’s a good rule. Pray for me as I attempt to revive my sex appeal, or at least not repulse passers by with my crazy locks. I’m scared and I want my Mommy! Why Lydia, Why?