My good hair day

I've just gotten home from a haircut, and I'm very relieved to say I am not bald.

See, I have a slight fear of hairdressers. I mean, not of them specifically, but of the act of going to the hairdresser's. I've had long hair for a long time (20+ years), and I'm pretty attached to it. And I feel like every time I go to get my hair cut, they take too much off. My conversations usually go like this:

Hairdresser: "So, what are we doing today?"
Me: "Just a trim, please. And... d-d-don't take too much off."
Hairdresser: "Sure, no problem. So how many inches would you like me to take off?"
Me: "Um ... zero? Zero inches? Maybe zero-point-five if you must?"

As a result, I don't get my hair cut all that often, or certainly not as often as Cosmo might recommend. And as always, I was a little nervous going in tonight.

But there was no need! Because it's still long! It's bouncy! It's wavy! It's fabulous!!!

As I walked home after my haircut, I stopped in to my local Mexican joint for a takeaway burrito, and a young man seated inside stared up at me when I walked in. Dare I say it? He looked impressed! 

Now it may have been with my hair, my puffy jacket, my smudged eyeliner, or the spectacularly well-lit 'Exit' sign above my head.

But I'm thinking it was the hair.