My barrette set of the metal detector at the airport and it was the last straw. I walked in to the barber shop in Portland and said "Do you cut women's hair?" The man there who was finishing his dinner said "No." I then asked if he knew anyone else who did, I just wanted a few inches off. He said "Eh, sit down...." I spent the next hour talking about Bulgaria and Romania and Ivan's many grandchildren as he took a few inches off and gave me some short layered something or other that got rave reviews from the lady at the post office. All I know is that it dries quickly. I'd been dithering about getting a new haircut for a month or so and walking into a barber shop and pointing at a picture on the wall seemed easier than trying to pick the exact super-perfect cut and style for me. More about Portland as I catch up on sleep and email. It was a fun trip.

jessamyn, abada abada, haircut, portland