The Loco Moco Burger |
I finally got my Rapunzel-looking ass down to get a hair cut and see my sweet stylist and her young son. She is cutting at two venues. This one I could walk to in the Clinton Hill section of Brooklyn and is in a cute tiny vintage shop. She was so welcoming and chatty that I wondered why I wait so long to do this as it's such a cool experience. I took pictures of ideas but when I got there she immediately seemed to know what was needed and went at my head like a concerned surgeon. Later she said she felt that my hair was screaming at her to cut it, which I found both funny and troubling. It looked so good when she finished but by the time I got home, the high humidity did a Freddy Fender number on me.
By the time I made it home, my hair looked frizzy, dry and flat - the exact opposite of how I left that shop but I still held the happiness of getting myself there, which for a recluse is an accomplishment in itself. It was a loco moco haircut to go along with my loco moco burger.
Covid hair. I'm going to have to go to therapy over it. 😂
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