got mah' hair cutted

Fringe-y bangs---which work wonders for masking forehead breakouts...and lots of layers---keeping my length while cutting off a majority of my crunchy ends.

I love it. Tricoci does an amazing job with my hair every time, and the stylist I see charges a reasonable price, especially for the caliber of work she does. Not once have I ever walked out of that place disappointed when she's cut my hair. And I'm pretty picky about my coif. (Hey when your mom accidentally gives you a mullet your sophomore year in high school? Well, you become a little gun shy with your hair after that. Talk about traumatic...)

It was a little blustery out last night though, so I ended up hailing a cab right after I walked out of 900 N. Michigan. Usually I sit in front of the 4th Presbyterian Church (or, as I call it, "my pretty church") and watch people walking by. I'm not Presbyterian...heck, I'm not even what you'd consider religious, but there is something so beautiful and peaceful about that church that when I go to that neck of the woods, I feel I must sit and absorb it all in.

I guess I'm I'm a little sad I didn't get to do that this time.

However, I think the cab driver thinks that I work as a stripper. I left my car at work and caught a cab downtown to Tricoci. So, on the way back the cab driver asked where I needed to go. I told him the address, and he said, "Oh, you live by the horse barn."

I told him, "No, I don't live there, it's actually right next to where I work."

Then he got silent.

Then it hit me.

Next door to the horse barn is V.I.P.'s strip club. This is, of course, not where I work. But in that cabbie's mind? I'm sure it is.