I can't wait to get my hair cut tomorrow. I always feel better after a haircut. Unless it's a bad one. But I've found the perfect stylist who does exactly what I want every time. In Baltimore, I had a very sassy stylist named Jimmy. Actually, I shouldn't say he was mine because he seemed to not remember me every time, and I never bothered to remind him that we'd met before. Am I really that invisible to people, or is it because I'm good at looking different all the time? The other day a library worker pushed his cart of books right into me like I wasn't even there. Oh, but back to Jimmy. Even though he did not know my name and he would not always give me exactly what I wanted, I do miss his fingertips brushing against my neck while he cut my hair. Just thinking about it gives me goose bumps! Once, Meg came with me to a hair appointment and watched, and read my thoughts.
One of my favorite Jens songs is about his hairstylist.
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