I'm just a boy with a new haircut

I think I will instantly fall in love with any woman who washes my hair.

Of course, it helps that all the girls working at Belle Epoque are button-cute. They said just a wash would be $10, so I'm thinking if I can stretch out two washes a week, I will have beautiful women wash my hair forever.

I treated myself to a full-service wash/haircut/hand and scalp massage (all standard at B.E.) last night and couldn’t be happier about it. Well, actually, I’d be happier if it was a little cheaper, but I figure it’s all money that I won’t be spending when I go bald. Flaunt it while you got it, I always say.

I went under the shears of the owner herself, Dayna Cakebread (not sure if that’s a real name). She moves with speed and precision, at once deciding on her vision and carrying it out with excitement. It was fantastic, as I usually have few specific requests for my stylist. There are just general guidelines that usually include, but aren’t limited to, shorten the back and de-thick-ify the sides. She did that and oh such more… not that I was paying attention because her uber-cute new assistant was massaging my early-stage carple-tunneled hands. Ohhhh so nice. She tried to give me a little too much spike in the back, but I decided I didn’t want to look like this



(that part behind the “N” is still his hair.

Anyway, the move is still on. Apparently my Dad just got a truck that I can use. Sweet. He must be giddy like I was when I got my scooter. Seriously, he’s been talking about getting a truck for like 10 years. It fulfills his inner-putterer, though at this stage in life, I don’t know how much rugged use he’s going to get out of it. I mean, my folks just got a gardener for the love of Pete.

Thank you for reading.