Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm so excited! I'm getting my hair trimmed today1 It's been over a year, and I am going to a haircutter who does the deed outside and masked. She asked me to bring photos of me with my hair cut the way I like, but I protested that those always had bangs and were shorter than I now wanted. As she suggested magazines, I thought of a great haircut Diane Keaton sported on the back cover of her book I just finished. She's my age, okay, a lot thinner, beautiful, and no doubt styled to the inth degree, but I like the cut. Hey, right now it's all about risk anyway, isn't it?! I mean, if I'm really lucky I'll look just like her, magically! Well, okay, I'm delusional, but at least I'm enthusiastic. Normally, I hate going to salons for anything: haircut (I try not to see myself in the mirror), manicures (only had two in my life), pedicures (one), facials, massages, any form of grooming. My mother was the opposite, but I didn't get her genes for enjoyment. It all involves mirrors, and I'm a much happier person when I don't see myself in them. Was I traumatized? Possibly, because my first memory as a toddler was staring at myself in a full length mirror in our house in Kansas City, and being furious with my mother who had just cut my hair so I looked like Moe of the Three Stooges. One inch bangs. Who looks good in those?! It's too expensive to go into therapy for haircuts, so I'm just going to buck up and get those split ends guillotined!