I hate my hair. It's baby fine and breaks before it gets past chin length. So! I decided upon a hairy adventure. I bought a shoulder length human hair full lace wig. Now that I had it, what to do with it. I wanted low lights, took it to a beautician I knew and trusted. She charged me $185 to put a few streaks in the wig. After I recovered from that shock, my new hair and I set off to be united.
The process sounds daunting. First they put tape below your hairline, then add some glue to the tape. Next, the wig is applied. The wigs generally are custom made to fit the head. I was amazed at the results. You cannot tell that it is a wig, and it can be pulled up and worn in a high ponytail. I am very proud of my new tresses. No pix except in my cell phone. And it is very convenient. Just brush and go. Every two weeks, it is removed, cleaned and reapplied.
We'll see how long I love it or if it ends up on Ebay as a friend of mine predicted.
This has nothing to do with hair, but I wanted to post Bianca's shiny brand new banner.
Excerpt from On Wings of Desire:
The stench of Hell burned Salseph’s nostrils. Lost
Souls¸ how he hated to return home.
For all his trials on Earth, he preferred the human realm to this
insufferable place. In the mortal plane,
he could, with considerable effort and pain, divest himself of his wings, and
feel as if he belonged—at least for a time.
Evolerzzal, a slimy glob of green flesh, grabbed Seph’s shoulder as he
passed into the gloom of the Demon Realm.
“Well, if it isn’t Salseph the Beautiful. What are you doing here amongst us humble
creatures?” A clawed hand beckoned
Charzzel, a demon of the Second Order.
“Look who’s come home.”
Seph shrugged free, arched his wings.
The dim, smoky light refracted on his feathers, and the movement
immediately drew the attention of every demon in sight. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. He yearned to drive his fist into the
grotesque face and take to the air, but it wasn’t Evolz’s fault the demons
hated Seph. Paimon had insured that
Salseph was an oddity, a freak. His
appearance and the majestic wings set him apart from the others of his
kind. Hell, there were no others of his
kind. In all of Perdition, he was the
only demon who looked like an angel. His
face was handsome, his body lean and muscled—the body of a man, not a monstrosity—his
blond hair thick and silky.
“I smell angel,” a low-ranking atrocity shouted, his high-pitched voice
rasping on Seph’s nerves.
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The demons stank of brimstone and ash.
Salseph’s Creator had only missed one detail in replicating a celestial
being.
Like an angel, Seph possessed an
individual, mysterious scent, the airy fragrance part of his allure.
Unlike an angel, Salseph had no sigil.
A sigil, the angel’s name in
Malachim script, was branded in his palm
at his creation.
Paimon did not have the
ability to bequeath a sigil to his demon son.
The fallen angel had, however, created Seph with an irresistible sexual
magnetism.
A disgustingly ugly brute bared his fangs. A laugh rumbled from the creature’s slavering
maw. He stumbled into Seph, crushing one
of the long white feathers trailing the ash-gray ground. “Hello, Salseph.” Two taloned fingers drifted down the
feathered arch. “Wish I had pretty
wings.”
Seph flinched from the malicious caress, folding his wings in a tighter
arch. The creature chuckled, and anger
ground Salseph’s good intentions to dust.
When he landed, he’d planned to hurry to his cave, avoiding another
senseless confrontation with his brethren.
The fiends detested him as much as he abhorred them. It was an effort of will to resist a scathing
retort.
“I think he’s hideous,” a demon in the shadows called. “Angels are our enemies. Every time I look at Paimon’s favorite, I
want to draw sword.”
Jealousy and envy gleamed in Evolz’s yellow eyes. The demon reeked of the Pit. Sulfur wasn’t an enticing perfume. “Now, who would want to spit our lovely
Salseph on a sword?”
“Let me pass.” Seph would have shouldered by Evolz, but touching the
creature repulsed him.
“Coming home from another assignment?” Evolz smirked.
Seph refused to give the other demon the satisfaction of a reply. He was
returning from another demeaning mission with his stomach in a knot and his
heart bleeding for a poor human woman whose only sin was falling in love with
him.
“Did you eat her baby or pump a little half-demon into her womb?” Evolz leered, his glob of a head tilted to
the side, his hairy ears wagging.
“I don’t consume human flesh. Now,
step aside.”
“Or you’ll do what? Report me to
Paimon?”
Seph flared his wings, striking the demon and sweeping Evolerzzal into a
stumbling retreat. “Sorry, Evolz.” He drove his wings down hard, rising straight
into the sultry, close air. Voice dripping
sarcasm, he said, “I forget how powerful I really am.”
He hovered above the gross blob, his condescending smile goading Evolz to
react. The demon glared at him but said
nothing, a quick comeback beyond his limited mental capacity. Why were they all so fiendish? One of the monsters tried to capture his
ankle. Laughing, he flew higher and,
still chuckling, soared toward home. The place I hide. He’d never thought of the dim stone
cavern as home. His heart stuttered over
a painful beat. He had no home and belonged nowhere.
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My, makes you wanna say, Huh, look.
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