Perky

I grew tired of my long hair this week. It was down to the back of my bra. If I let it dry naturally, it went wild. So that meant I was spending 30 mins a morning either blowdrying it straight or having to use my curlers.

So I called my beautician this morning and asked her if she could cut my hair. I just got back.
She wasn't available so I used her assistant--Rwanda or maybe its Yolanda. Anyway, she gave me a decent shoulder length cut... bouncy and easy to manage...And PERKY.

Its long enough to tickle a thigh or a stomach while I suck cock without getting in the way. lol.. I'm sooooooo bad, aren't I?

after she cut off the length, she asked if I wanted a lock of my hair to give to my "Lover." I thought she was kidding and laughed. Her phrasing was humorous...like she was being politically correct with using lover instead of saying boyfriend or girlfriend...hey, ya gotta cover all the bases now a days. After a few seconds of laughing, I realized no one but me was doing it... in the mirror, I caught the serious looks of the other two women waiting behind me...and my laughing face...what a contrast!

But it was so absurd and sounded so 18-19th century. Had I stepped into a Jane Austen novel?

I declined politely. And felt so bad about laughing that I let her talk me into a color rinse to get rid of my few gray hairs and to get rid of the areas that the sun had lightened. I had a funky red area that for some reason returns every few months.

Now I'm an Auburn Wildflower (dark red-brown). And my new motto is:

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...hate me because I'm Perky.