The Colour House- nightmare Hair Experience
This Saturday our local trendy looking salon did not cancel my appointment as per last week, they annoyed by calling at 8.45 when I was not due until 9am.
The Salon with it funky exterior and chairs looks great, the smell of chemicals hits you immediately. My hair actually looked ok when I walked in, two hours later, a really uncomfortable experience with a massage chair pummelling into my C7 vertebrae at the sink, wet back and I am nearly in tears. I don’t have much hair but the stylist has dyed it a bizarre shade of mouse with no definition to the colour, and impregnated half a can of gunk onto my scalp, using a tiny round brush she has turned my sleek Chantelle-Posh spice cut into a pensioners curly top, I want to cry. I ask for a brush and attack the bouffant sticky mess it looks awful. I have that, panic, I need to leave here now moment, pay at the till and cannot believe they give me a recommend a friend card! I like my friends.
The estate agent in Vickery’s looked bemused as me that forty year old woman in tears, is madly brushing the styling product out of her hair in Bagshot high street, this is not a good move.
I have washed my hair twice since Saturday and it still smells of the tinting product looks totally dull and is fizzy like a chemical accident at the back. But there is nothing like a teenage daughter to put it in perspective, in the car this morning she said its not mouse coloured, its more khaki, GREEN and I have had it worse. She remembers the other local salon who managed to make me look like Pam Ayres with Fringe and turned under bounce as he put it.
I have learnt my lesson, for flowers, cakes and gift buying local is good, but for hair London will only suffice.
The Bracknell Cinema Experience
Only three years since our last date,my husband and I hit the cinema and we finally get to see Run Fatboy Run, Paul upgrades us to premier tickets sadly in front of us are teenage courting couples of the we have to talk mode. But hey the film was so good we laughed out loud and it had a feel good happy end. Go and see it.
Lunch at Great Fosters
Why oh why will I never learn to pace myself. Champagne reception, I love champagne particularly on tap and being refilled. Then its time for lunch and the main is the most fabulous beef so red wine is chosen, now I am on a roll. I know how bad it was I lost the sweet, not literally but I cannot recall what it was, if it was and how or if it reached my mouth. (My silk dress survived)I have re-arranged the seating plan so the girls can sit together and plot, plot a new years eve party at ours. (Total Result very happy with this piece of organisation) I am talking too loudly volume control and quite possibly content control is off, loud Lou is going for it. I can remember dancing to the best live band. A great day, sadly I have lost my glasses, one shoe and an earring, I am going to pose as my secretary and ring the hotel once I have plucked up the courage who knows who I upset yesterday.
Sorry in advance to anyone I insulted, trod on while dancing or interrogated in my advanced state of drunkenness.
Missing pair black storm prescription much loved glasses.
