On-Demand belly dance classes? Yup.
CrunchFitness Burlesque DVD? check.
Loooooong walk, in the sun (SPF 101, no lie) with ipod blaring? Uh huh.
Bust out my purple-zebra-print scarf? Yerp
Application of bright blue eye shadow to match scarf? Hells to the yeah.
Hairstyle? Aw, fuck.
My hair has been growing like weeds lately, which has actually given me to ability to ::gasp:: style it. I generally opt for the 'hawk...everything else makes me look like a) Mr. Shu or b) Phil. Unfortunately, the back was getting silly out of control. Every time I've tried to comb down the sides and back of it, these little flippy tufts of hair would stick out at the bottom and up the back, giving the suggestion of a half-assed mullet. Not a good look. So I walked down the street to this little hair salon called Joyce's Hair Fashions and asked if they could trim me up. And trim me up they did, and quite well if I do say so myself. The three stylists in there were so, so nice, really great to chat with. They unexpectedly, and very generously, comp'ed my trim so tomorrow I think I'll whip up something sweet and yummy and drop it off as a thank you. If you live in this area and need a trim, pop in there. Ask for Kathy. They were great:)
You know what? All of this really made me feel better. Tired, a little sore, but much better. Especially the hair part. Going by myself for my "first" haircut was empowering. I shaved the first hunk of hair off of my head six months ago, it felt right doing this alone today. This morning, the hair on my head was the style that the chemo decided it should be. Hair frizzed out, thin, thinking about being curly. It didn't reflect me. Now, it kinda does...and I kinda like it.