so, i finally did it. i got fed up with seeing gray hairs sticking out of my head every which way and i got my hair colored for the first time in my life. i mean, i’ve had it highlighted before but that doesn’t count. this time i had every single one of my hairs dyed. i was scared, i was nervous, i held my breath and then…the color turned out to be pretty much exactly the same as my original color. that’s, in fact, what happens when i pick out a new wall color for our house. it goes from “white-washed white” to “white bread white” – cause that’s just how i do. i did get some nice subtle highlights in the front, though. they shimmer in the sun when i toss my hair to and fro.

the girl who dyed my hair is pretty much amazing. she’s the new hair stylist at this place called isabelle’s day spa. she’s 24 and hardly anyone goes to her – yet.  i do declare that i have found the next best hair stylist of san antonio (maybe even the country) – she’s a diamond in the rough. just you wait – in a few years they’ll move her to jersey to coiff the hair of rich sleazy housewives – she’ll become famous, she’ll thank me for it at a special gala in my honor and i’ll be filthy rich – it’ll be amazing.  so, here’s the deal: if i refer someone to her to get their hair dyed then i get my next hair color for free. did you hear me people?? my next hair color for FREE. what will you get?? well, a big fat thank you from me. and i’ll send you an autographed picture of me when i become “the woman who found the best hair stylist in the usa.”

so, here’s their website:

make your appointment today and don’t forget to mention my name! and if you do go and get your hair did and do forget to give my name i will be sure to find you and make you pluck my gray hairs til your fingers get gnarly. ha! i’ve always wanted to use the word “gnarly” – such a great word for describing knotted fingers. which, by the way, i have a finger – my middle finger no less – that is becoming gnarly. boo. guess one too many flips of the bird in my lifetime. as well as too much popping of my knuckles. kids, your parents are right – popping your knuckles will disfigure your fingers. i am living proof.

next time i see you i want to hear two things from you:

#1. “i’ve made my appt to get my hair did at isabelle’s day spa.” (yes, you do have to say it all ghetto-like)

#2. “my, what lovely hands you have!” (don’t you dare mention my gnarly finger lest it stick up for itself)