February 20, 2007
At the salon, I have both my hair and my outlook brightened. There’s never a dull moment when I’m there, inside or out. Outside, the street cabaret ranges from horrifying to amusing, and occasionally, poignant. But never dull. Inside, we discuss Britney Spears (“Have you seen her? She’s a baldini!”), vacations (“Sicily is a mortgage payment. Seriously.”), Beyoncé’s Grammy hair (“Of course they’re extensions. But I loved the gardenia”), and the mysterious and untimely death of the flamboyant Anna Nicole Smith (“That guy had something to do with it. He’s so shady”). Replete with gossip and giggles, I head home.