My butt was in the hairdresser's chair for 4 1/2 hours. I kid you not. There is something about me that makes people want to open up their deepest darkest secrets to me. BJ and other's have commented on that many times. While flattering, sometimes it can be really disturbing. For instance, we'll be at the grocery store and suddenly the lady at the meat counter is telling me stuff that people would normally reserve for their best friend. I don't know the lady at the meat counter. All I wanted was some jumbo shrimp for Pete's sake. We walk away and hubby just shakes his head. "How do you do it?" he asks. I tell him that I honestly don't know. I just have one of those faces I guess.

For four hours and thirty minutes I listened to my hairdresser tell me things I wouldn't even talk to my sister about. Seriously. She stood there and talked to me for about 20 minutes before she even laid a hand on my head. While cutting if she got to a really 'good' part of one of her many stories, she'd stop cutting and stand there and go on with her soliloquy for another 30 minutes or so. I'd try to mentally WILL her to continue cutting or foiling, but to no avail. I even called my sister when the hairdresser was mixing the colors and asked her to call me in an hour in an effort to rescue me. You know, the sort of thing people do when they're on a really bad blind date. Nope, that didn't work either.

Care to read a snippet? Yeah, I thought so. Let me set this up a bit for you. She decided to take a chance on a guy she met online who originally said he was 32, but when they decided to meet in person, he fessed up to being 48. So, she flew across the U.S. to meet him and rather than being 48, she said that she thought he was probably in his 50's. AND most likely married. She decided to just have a good time while she was there. How many things can I find wrong in this scenario? Ummmmm, too many to count.

On with the snippet.We'll just call her Chatty Cathy so we keep things anonymous.

Chatty Cathy: Yack yack yack... then he couldn't perform... yack yack yack... I suggested viagra... yack yack yack... then he wanted to try "x". So I told him, if you can't get it in "there", then you certainly won't be able to get it in "THERE".

Me: (thinking) My ears are bleeding. Seriously, someone please take away my hearing. I cannot stand to hear another word.

Chatty Cathy: yack yack yack... four hours later... yack yack yack....

You're probably wondering what the conspiracy theory was today. Well, I'm not going to label it a conspiracy theory, but it was a theory none the less. Today's theory:

When you have sex with a man, he is infusing you with a sort of virus. That's what makes women fall in love with men when they have sex. It's a sex virus. Not a STD, it's more like a virus that attacks your chemical makeup. Apparently condoms are of no protection of this virus.

So now you know.

I'm really going to have to think awfully hard about going back. Four and a half hours. That's an awful long time to listen to this stuff.

On the other hand, my hair looks fabulous.