it started like another saturday morning, well, more or less because it came that time of the year when i decided i need a haircut. so i had an appointment at this guy my sister recommended who, she said, was awesome. the appointment was for 9 a.m. of course, i was there at 9 a.m sharp, because i work like a swiss clock and punctuality is next to godliness. but the stylist, being an artist, wasn't there so i called him, he apologized, arrived in 15 minutes, because he forgot the keys someplace and he had to go to the mani-pedi girl to get other keys, whatever, blah.
and now the really perfect morning begun. because the salon was in a small attic and there were big mirrors put on the floor against the wall and there was a slight disarray and a bohemian air to the place - all beauty salons should look like that. because it was a sunny and warm spring morning. because i was the only customer. because he turned on the radio on that soft music station. because the stylist didn't look like your regular hair-stylist (you know, those cocky, shallow and obnoxious "experts"? those who think weird is avant-garde and whose lips are pursed in perpetual disdain). instead, picture a michael stipe look-a-like (except with brown eyes), dressed in a light-blue and white shirt with jeans (NO SPARKLES! NO RIDICULOUS OUTFIT! OHMYGODS!). a casual and relaxed attitude, no "oh, your hair is a mess!". and then he washed my hair, at which point i fell over dead with awesome because there is nothing in the world like head massage and having my hair washed. and he noticed my hair was dyed with henna (at which point i was like OH WOW!!!)
(short note: i argued with sister about my expectations on hairstylists. she was all "what did you expect, a beating? you were a customer, for heaven's sake!" i pointed out that hairstylists i met previously were characters from horror movies who took a perverse pleasure in taking my money AND insulting me in passive-aggressive ways i very often felt like stabbing them with those scissors. so, for someone who is a hairstylist and a guy, it was next to amazing to act decently. or maybe i just had so many traumas)
and then the split ends were trimmed and there were no weird suggestions regarding the haircut and the hair was styled in a casual sexy way. damn, i felt so good, so pretty, leaving that place. and my hair was shiny and flowy and i felt like an awesome goddess in dark jeans.
and then i had coffee and a croissant with sister in a nice cafe downtown and we went shopping and we had lunch with the girls at the restaurant in the park and gossiped and laughed and it was warm and sunny outside and the world felt free of worries and fuckwitters extraordinaire.
i really really want days like this to happen more often. everyday, if possible, plzthnks