I was so fed up with my gel-faked 'do that I sent up a flare prayer and walked into the closest day spa/hair salon in the neighborhood.

Thanks to my practically non-existent phone Spanish, there was some confusion when I called beforehand, and they had slotted me for a pedicure as well. Who was I to argue with that type of mistake??

Sometimes, things just fall into place. The hairdresser was a doll (as was the nail tech) and I will be going back despite the fact that I was the whitest girl in the place. Nothing like hair salon gossip to sharpen one's second language skills.

Despite my initial panic when the scissors started snipping, I was glad to have things evened out. Somehow, the left side had grown in faster than the right (???). It's short, but it feels more like me.

I'll get some pics at the Relay and post later this weekend.