"It's a girl thing."

After anxiously waiting an entire month to get my haircut and colored, Friday morning finally arrived. Over the last two weeks the thought of what color my hair would be, what kind of haircut I wanted, and if I wanted to go brunette consumed my mind. Some would say it was vain, others would say "It's a girl thing."

On Friday morning I turned off my alarm clock with excitement knowing that I had a wonderful morning to look forward to. As I walked to Union Station I contemplated what hair color I would choose: stick with blonde or go brunette. All the way to U St. I looked at People Magazine to get hair ideas, knowing that I would probably just be brain washed by the hair stylist anyways.

There is something to say about getting your hair done. Some get freaked out and do not like change and others, such as myself, absolutely love it. As I entered the Salon, I was instantly hit with the "Please Pamper me now" sensation.

I met Hiwot, an amazing Ethiopian lady who moved to Washington D.C. in 1993, who welcomed me to the Salon. After getting aquainted with the Salon's atmosphere, I felt like I could full out veg as a girl.

Being a girl is wonderful. I know it costs more money, there are more worries, and you actually have to look good from time to time, but it is so worth it. We get to get pampered (even though we pay a lot for it), we get to take time for ourselves and it is okay, and we get to have the luxury of feeling pretty.

Sitting in the chair as Hiwot and I discussed my hair options, I was filled with the sensation of new possibilities. Which seems so silly, since it is only my hair!

The last two years of my life I have have allowed my hair to be one kind of blonde: platinum. There comes a time in a girls life when one needs change. The one who desperately needed change was me. I needed something new.

Hiwot led me to the table, where there was a wide variety of colors and possibilities to choose from. Thankfully she helped me sort out my scattered mind and helped bring me to a decision on what color my hair would be: a darker blonde with brown low-lights.

The art of highlighting is worth observing. I am the kind of person who learns from watching. I watched intensly, trying to figure out if I could attempt to do what she did (which I probably can't). The process of waiting for the dye to sit in is relaxing in itsself, especially as I finished the book "In the Name of Jesus" by Henri Nouwen (which I highly recommend).

The best part is yet to come. Why is it that european women who can't speak english always work at salons? I don't know if anyone has ever observed that, but I love it for two reasons. One being that I just love when people can't speak english are given a job. The second being european women are always EXCEPTIONAL masseus' , particularly with head massages. Good Lord, I could not keep my mouth shut. "Ohhhh ahhhh" and "This is the best massage I have ever had" were the verbal expressions my body chose to use to express the wonderful sensation my head was experiencing.

Foil off, wet hair, and the color was revealed. "Ahh, YES," I was so excited. I loved it, even before the cut and before the dry.

The color being revealed was exciting in itsself, but speaking with Hiwot as even more of a blessing. She is a mother of two daughters and a wife to an ethiopian man. She co-owns her salon and has had great success despite the recession. Sweetest lady I have met in D.C. yet. She cared deeply for her costomers and for their needs.

I thank her, the master mind behind hair, becuase she has taken my platinum blonde hair with dead ends and turned it into a new creation of darker colors and life. So thank you Hiwot for making my Friday.