Wak Shack

I know the title implies perhaps the name of an infamous half way house in San Francisco or perhaps a brothel but that is just not true. It's the place where I received my latest haircut and I think it turned out...ok. There is nothing outstanding about this latest haircut but my news is I have found a place in San Francisco where I will safely go to get my hair done.

There's not much about me that's high maintenance but I do have a strict hair regiment. The reason for this is I come from bad hair genes and I think this in many ways traumatized me. My mother, bless her angelic heart, just has the worst hair. She could be the poster child for if your hair went to hell what it would be subjected or changed to. To kind of describe it...If you were to take the mane of 50 horses and stick it on your head and then stick your finger in a socket and dye that all the color of sooty snow that's kind of what it looks like in it's natural state. For this reason I never want to know my natural hair color and I always want it cut in a somewhat fashionable style. I accomplish this every few years but only with the help of a very talented stylist. I found this in Chicago and was terrified to give her up. I even thought to figure in quarterly flights home as part of my hair budget. What I paid for her and what I now have to pay for a trendy salon it almost works out to be the same.

As it stands I am feeling positive about this small milestone towards making this place more like home.