Swish, swish

Today, it is highly likely that Deafinitely Girly will get run over/walk into a lamp post/fall down an open manhole, or walk headlong into someone.

The reason for this is that yesterday, I had my hair done.

*swish, swish

and I cannot stop swishing it

*swish, swish

and looking at my reflection.

*swish, swish

I mean, cripes, I am almost embarrassed to admit to being so vain...

But I am!

This whole hair-being-done-in-a-salon experience is still relatively new to me. I used to get Ma to cut it with her sewing scissors. But now, every three months I pop to see Amazing Hairdresser and she cuts it, puts some non-chemical seaweed lightener on the front, and blow dries it into submission.

The result?

*swish, swish

Very swishy hair!

This morning I got up and caught sight of myself in the mirror

*swish, swish

Running for the bus, I swish, swished it and loved how the new cut felt heavier than my lanky old one.

Then of course on my walk to the office from the bus stop…

*swish, swish

*stare

OK, you get the picture yah?

*swish, swish

But really, to the untrained eye, it doesn't actually look that different. So people are probably wondering what the weird blonde girl, swishing her hair around while looking in shop windows, is actually doing. And when I fall down an open manhole because I was too busy looking at my reflection to notice it, they will probably remember the fact I smell like sewage on my emergence, not the fact my swishy hair is ruined.

Erm, this is worrying. I've just written an entire post about my hair.

*mental note to self:

No swishing in my lunch hour. I'd better go and find a cure for this extreme, but hopefully short-lived, dose of vanity I seem to be experiencing.

But in the meantime...

*swish, swish