Sometimes it's like they're just begging to get on my blog. we not bee on blawg for millyun days, mom. dis kewt enuf? Do you like the nice sheet I have over the couch? I emulated Jackie Kennedy's sheet, from when she had four pets at the White House.
How is it other people have pets and manage to not have June's Furry House of Fur Now With Fur? Can you tell me that?
Do you really think my pets'd misspell "cute" that bad? It's really not that hard of a word.
Anyway, hi. Here I am again. I guess Ima tell you about my hair today. I know that's not like me. But recently Ned, who is kind of one of those no-nonsense boys, said, "You should go to my hair person. You'd like it there. It's girly and shit."
Ned goes to a girly hair person? This shocked me as much as it does you. I remember we had to schedule our first date around his hair, as he was getting it cut that week. I didn't know Ned was so into hair. You'd think he'd pick a woman with a less troublesome 'do, then. Because as we know, I got me some hair.
If I were a musical, I'd be Hair.
If I were a cult, I'd be a Hari Krishna.
If I were a body of water, I'd be a lock.
I told all of that to my pal Daniel Boone the other day, and he said, "If you were German, they'd call you Herr even though you're a girl."
Oh, I got a million of them. If I were on an island I'd be STRANDed.
So yeah. Hair. Which apparently Ned is sick of looking at, as he recommended his hair woman to get rid of mine. So I scheduled an appointment for cut AND color, because did I mention I am also gray?
If I were a TV show, I'd be Grey's Anatomy. If I were a book, it'd be 50 Shades of--oh you get my drift.
If I were a speaker, I'd be Spaulding Grey. Could not help self.
By the way, if you ever wonder do you spell it "grey" or "gray," if you're in America, it's "gray," and in England or one of those British-spelly places, it's "grey." You are welcome. I used to work at a place that put out two catalogs--one in the U.S. and one in Canada, and I'd have to proofread all the same things, but remember if it was the Canadian book or not, so it'd be colour/color, program/programme, gray/grey, and this is why I will never get Alzheimer's.
Anyway. It turns out Ned's hairdresser (do boys have hairdressers?) has a salon .0003 miles from my house, but naturally I got in my car and drove precisely the opposite way to get there, only to drive and drive and wonder why the numbers were getting lower and wondering when they'd pick back up again until finally I was on the EAST part of the street and not west anymore. Did I mention I hate everything and particularly directions? That if I were another TV show I'd be Lost? Did I mention that time Ned snapped at me in the car and I cried, it was because of directions? And hair?
Okay, we weren't remotely fighting about hair. But he said, "No, no, June, go this way" and I said, "No!" and we ended up in Tibet and he snapped.
If Ned were a restaurant, he'd be Snappy Lunch. Which is only funny to people who live in North Carolina and know what the Sam Hill Snappy Lunch is.
I finally got there, nine minutes late, and good gravy, she was BEAUTIFUL, Ned's hairdresser was. I linked to her again so you can look at her website and see a photo. It turns out she is Russian, and did not once say "Moose and Squirrel," and for that I am sad, but she was a model and lived in Paris and did I mention her beautifullness?
Dang.
Anyway, she took one look at my hair, which has gotten so large I am not pulling it back half the time. Here.
Here I am being lost on the way there, and I know it's extra safe to take your photo in the car. I was at a red light, though, judgy.
At any rate, we had a good time, Ned's hairdresser and me. She used to live in New York, and cut hair there on Madison Avenue, and we talked about New York and Los Angeles and Paris and men and relationships and oh, we had us a time. We did not talk about Ned a lot, which is good, because I'm more than willing to gossip about Ned with all of YOU, who don't know him, but it's different when you're with someone who knows your man and his hair.
Anyway, here is my hair now.
What do you think? Cute? I think it's cute. And the color is excellent. God, I hate my nose. If I were a predictor of the future, I'd be Nostradamus.
So in all, am glad I went to Ned's hair woman, and will see her again, and will try very hard to get her to say "Moose and Squirrel."





