Got my hair done!

First of all. The time I have been away, to look back and to remember what I thought I needed to share with you, I need to open my calendar.

One of the highlights is .....I did go to a get my hair done (by a professional hair person who once went to school to study this), even if it was just that, it would be a something special. BUT! The dude who cut my hair happened to be a very special person.... 

Also

b) My house was of fire;

c) There was a big accident on my street; 

d) There was lots of snow in London and the whole city was sort of out of order; 

a) At the hairdressers. Why I felt the need to go in the first place, was because I hadn't gone in over a year long time. If my hairdresser Kairi from Est would hear that, even her young heart would probably skip a beat. Over a year since the last time. I bet you are wondering what I did with my hair in the meanwhile... cut them myself with scissors that I also used to cut paper or flowers or what ever needed to be cut. 

So, I went. I ended up sitting at a brazilian hairdresser. Because it was the only one I could get without an appointment. (I like to think, that it has no special meaning to it, ok!) :)

So, there I was. a short gay guy with braces and early hair loss covered up with natural looking hair colour, but sitll noticable. Tight jeans, tight blouse to bring out the fit body of his. Gay! - that's what I thought. I was right:) 

So, what happened was that I asked him to take care of my split ends and make my hair look beautiful after. He started cutting and me I was reading a magazine and the same time we were having a bit of a conversation. About men. He said he didn't like brazilian men because they were short, dark skinned hairy and too hot tempered. And oh, before, when he found out I was from Est, he was like O-M-G! You have sooooooo nice men there (try reading this with a gay accent)...And then he was telling me all about his boyfriend, who is also from Eastern Europe, he didn't spcify though. ...At one point I was more concentrated on my magazine than on what he was saying. When he finally said he was done, I looked uo and I was about to skip few heartbeats myself. Because it was so amazing! .....not! :D he had blowdried my hair up as my grandmother always likes to have it done and it was soooooooooo short. And I was like O-M-G! :D But I smiled, while I was thinking that I need an appointment obviously to get that fixed. :D 

So. After I gave the dude some money for his services, he handed me his card and asked me to come again. His name was KAKA! (I know it means pretty much the same thin in French and in Estonian...but in english and portugese they have different words for not poo/shit). 

About the b) to d). Later!

*Excuse my spelling mistakes.