Hola, tators and happy "Cordova Ice Worm Day" Now you are probably wondering what in the world is a Cordova Ice Worm, well so was I! With curiosity peek to the level of a cat, I Googled it!
Well...
It seems that it was a hoax created by a reporter way back in the olde days. But, today it is a rump-shakin' par-thay. Every year the town of Cordova, Alaska celebrates the mythical ice worm with a winter carnival that is held during the last week of January or the first week of February. The festival includes the election of an ice worm king and queen. So, if you desire to become the worm queen, you have a full year to prepare! Get your parka and snow shoes ready!
Ok...
We have all cheated in one way or another. I am so sure that over 90% of us cheated on a diet by giving in to rich chocolate cake, crispy french fries, or juicy burger despite the saying, "Once on the lips; forever on the hips!" Or, flashback to high school, and you totally forgot about a Social Study test on the New Deal (NOTE: Now we all know that you really did not forget about the test, you were doing more important things, such as your nails, talking on the phone, or writing your name over and over again with your last name replaced with that cute boy's sir name in your Science class). So, now you have to take a peek at your neighbor's paper in order to pass.
Even better...
You cheat on your college boyfriend with his best friend (NOTE: Well, he is cuter and older, so he can get you beers, beers, beers!!), or you cheat on your taxes (NOTE: Screw the government they do not need the extra cash; oh wait; they do!).
But, the worst cheat...
is when you cheat on your hair stylist. It is so bad, it should be the eleventh commandment; "Thou Shall not cheat on one's stylist!" Why is this so bad? Well, you develop a very intimate relationship with your stylist. She is like your mother, psychologist, sister, and spiritual adviser all rolled up into one. She know your crazy-ass cowlicks, dry-ass split ends, and what your natural hair color really is despite the fact you tell other that it is naturally the gorgeous color of a mid-western wheat field blowing in the spring breeze!
And...
your stylist knows all your deep dark secretes. You chat about how your husband said you have C-cup ta-tas, but a D-cup badonk; how you really hit the garbage can when backing out of the driveway even though you said someone hit you in the mall parking lot; and how you really hate your neigboro despte the fact that you are nice to her face.
But then...
despite this relationship, you meet someone else. While at the vet, you make a comment about the receptionist's fabu glossy, amber locks. She says a coy voice, "Thank you" and delves into a tale about how she found utopia in the hands of her new stylist. As you hang on every word, you are salivating at the sight of ease of movement of her layers. And then, she hands you the number. You take it and tuck it inside your LV wallet and try to forget the whole incident.
Now...
you cannot get the conversation off your mind. You want that beautiful, bouncy locks, and you want them now! You rationalize the phone call by telling yourself, "It's not really cheating, you are only going to talk." So, you meet the new stylist; she has an effervescent personality and hair that will make you want to kill half of the world for. She runs her fingers through your hair, and begins to suggest this and that. The whole time you are envisioning how the whole room will come to a halt when you step in, and it will not be because of your new Milly shift; it is because of your mane!
You decide...
to take the plunge and say, "Let's do it!" But, before she can answer, you remember this is just a "meeting" not a really appointment. You realize you have an out, the guilt begins to creep over you like an icky, scratchy wool sweater, but before you can head for the door, she says, "I have a cancelation, let's do it now!" Scissors start snipping, brush begins pulling, dryer begins drying, and the whole time you are not thinking about the "other one."
When it is over...
you feels fantastic; your hair is no longer limp, dull, and ashy! It is full of life, and so are you. You bounce out of the salon with an air of "I did something naughty,but oh so nice!" When you get home, your mood has changed. You now have to tell your other stylist that you cheated. It is not like she will not find out, your have superior hair. Well, you can always use that infamous line...
"It's not you; it's me!"
(NOTE: I can contest that it works for I used it numerous times!)
"Get a pedicure, get your hair did!"
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