This is a guest post from one of my favorite people, Kathy Cunsolo. If you know her, you know she’s hysterical and inspirational all at the same time. Enjoy!
I’ve been asked to be a “guest” blogger on my dear friend’s blog thingy. To be honest I have never blogged before. I have been a guest though. Do the same rules apply? I’m guessing good manners and self control are encouraged. *sigh*
God once told me I make him laugh. I wasn’t sure how He meant it, but I chose to believe it could be a good thing. Sometimes it seems there is not a lot of stuff to laugh about. Unless you can laugh at yourself and lately such has been the case. *sigh again*
A couple of weeks ago I decided to have my have my look readjusted. Wandering through the mall led me to a salon where I contemplated a new hair style. (Side note: NEVER make this decision without making sure you are ready for such a rash change.) I walked into the mall salon and told them I need an update. “No problem,” they reply. “Here is the beauty expert made just for you.”
I am not the sort of person that takes a great deal of time or effort on my hair. My motto is if you don’t look, it doesn’t matter. Unfortunately others do look. The sweet little salon girl smiled at me and told me I would look soooo much younger if I just lost some of the “brassy blond.” I decided not to be affronted and smiled back. At my age when someone promises a younger look you grab at the chance.
She wanted to do an ashy color. ASHY? Sounded a little scary. But hey, I’m up for it. (Ashes to ashes, I always say. Well, more like blond to ashes.) So, she does her thing and I’m more than ready to see what’s under the towel. I must say, I’m not easily shocked, but what I saw reflected in the mirror was INTERESTING to say the least. The top half of my head was still “brassy blond” while the lower half was almost black. The poor girl turned two shades of pale and left!
I sat in the chair wondering when the ashy was going to show up on my head when another hair expert came over to me with a forced smile on her face. She tried to act nonchalant, but I KNEW ashy was out of the question and hound dog was going to be my new look.
A third hair person with lots of hair reward citations pasted to her hair station walked over. She didn’t even try to make encouraging sounds. She just ran away and I could now hear some mumblings coming from the back room. I did make out a few words like, “I’ve never seen anything like this” and ” well, let her think its going to be alright.” At this point I knew my effort at looking younger may not happen. Sitting there all alone in the chair I just pretended this was the style I was going for. By now my hair was beginning to dry into scary Mrs. Frankenstein locks. After a while the little hair girl came out from behind the door of the now crowded back room.
“Um, I’m so sorry!” I could tell she had been crying and this broke my heart so I said, “Hey, I do look younger!” Like one of those punk rocker singers!” I don’t think she believed me but she gave me a watery smile and said if it took all day she would keep her word. By this time my rear-end was numb and I was through trying to update my look. “Oh, don’t worry, honey, God doesn’t care how I look,” I said. “But I do!” she replied. Then a couple of hours later and after enduring a long, weird process, we were back to the towel moment. I was just hoping for my brassy blond look back. BUT LO AND BEHOLD, I was beautiful! (Well, I exaggerate but I looked normal.)
I’m normal. Even better than normal because she put a few blond stripes in just to make me feel like it was all worth it.
So, the moral of the story??? Life is full of surprises and adventures. Don’t fear, just trust. Some processes take a little time, but God never leaves you hanging. And neither does a good hair salon expert dyer/ cutter/ miracle worker.
From someone who once dyed her hair blue, its all GOOD!