Here I am again, its Monday and the kids are out of school and I’m dying to hit a playground or something… but its really wet and mushy and icky. Sigh. So, its obviously time for my weekend review!

On Saturday, after many weeks of looking at different hair styles (something I never do) and determining if I was ready to really shake things up (I can’t believe I even said that), I decided I was, indeed, ready for a haircut. Not just any haircut, mind you, but a complete hair renovation to remind me every day that while I can still be Meryl Streep’s character in Mamma Mia,  right now, I can have fun being… well, I don’t know, someone with short hair. The thought of a new look has been plaguing me ever since I started putting my hair in braids to save me from static-cling-hair-suffocation. After watching Big Love last week, and noticing my hair was becoming very similar to that of a Utah-bound polygamist wife, my fate was sealed. If I’m going to be an a polyamorous relationship, I’m not going to french braid my hair. I have my standards.

I even did the “salon thing” (well, Penney’s) and I took The Twitches with me to indoctrinate them into the ancient feminine rituals of hair care. They needed to see the sights, hear the sounds, smell the smells of a salon, and they were extremely patient and I think they had a good time spinning in the chair next to me. I got 8″ of hair chopped off. I thought the stylist was going to pass out a few times out of fear of fucking it up. I kept telling her that it was just hair and it would grow back. She just smiled, hesitantly, and snipped, whispering, “yes!” each time she didn’t screw it up. Clearly, my mental “spirit crushing” power can even be felt by a stylist I’ve never met. That rocks. Later that night, The Twitches reenacted the entire hair styling process from the shampoo (and ketchup/mustard on the hair) to the women they saw with the “bags” on their hair, to the final look in the mirror, with a mirror to show the back of the hair. Missions accomplished! I kind of feel like an unschooler now.

After we finished our mall trip, including shopping, we went to Target. Since our regular Target is boring now (winter is killing us!), we ventured even further out than our normal 3 mile radius. It didn’t occur to me until we were there that I was in a sort of mentally-divided territory that existed in my head to keep me from running into my former BFF. I actually had ventured to the same “forbidden” Target earlier in that week, to find a shirt for another friend, and didn’t think twice about its location. Once I was standing in the hair mousse aisle (this is what salons do to me… hair mousse!) it really hit me – that I could not only run into her, but that I wanted to, and I needed her to tell me what kind of mousse to buy. In other words, its been two years since I’ve seen my former BFF and I miss her.

I just don’t know what that means now.

I will say it sure feels good to write it out. These “emotions” that people speak of are pretty cool sometimes, even when they hurt. I’ve been rolling around, languishing in feelings lately, as expressed last week with my elephant and Facebook adventures. This is really unlike me, because I prefer to just kind of nod my head at emotion and move on to more fun things, like telling others how to live their lives. I’m good at that, not so good at the feeling my own stuff *wiggles eyebrows*

Keeping all of the above in mind, in an unprecedented move, I came clean about my feelings (I busted that damn elephant chain). I actually did it twice. No, three times. But I did it. I spoke about my BFF, my spouse… I laid it all out there, as well as I could, since I’m an emotional alien, and let the chips fall where they may. But, most importantly, I let myself actually acknowledge these feelings, these crazy emotions, and now I’m all screwing up my snarktastic blog with this, but it has to be said. Its a new beginning, and I have some fabulous hair to prove it. Now, I just need to know if there is a particular eco-friendly mousse out there that isn’t tested on animals that I can find at Target.

Or someone to maybe laugh at me and make me buy the bad stuff in the name of good hair.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2yStD2GWhU

P.S. Does regular hair care do this to everyone?