Haircut Day

I had an appointment on Monday afternoon to get my haircut. But my stylist called and said she couldn't lift her arms over her head for a day and a half. (?) I offered to kneel on the ground, but instead we rescheduled for this afternoon. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I am a complete woose about things like this. And I had a hard time trying to describe what I wanted.
Last week the STP suggested I watch an episode of What Not To Wear. I don't care to think why. (I've been wearing my hair in a pony tail and really bad outfits around Dodge City this week, just in case he nominated me for the show and someone is following me around with a hidden camera.) But now I know what I need. $5,ooo and a week in New York. I'll take the stylist and the make-up lady, but I won't even need the services of the other two to insult and make fun of my current clothes and help me pick my new ones. (I've got people in New York who could do that for me.) What I need is someone to come here to Dodge City and use my budget and shop in the places I have to shop. That would be reality TV. Here is a shot of me walking into the thrift store. And the Western wear store. Dark jeans that drop straight down from my hips. (See me following 'the rules'?) Here I am trying on cowgirl boots and big silver belt buckles. Wait, we still have 45 minutes and $4500? Lets just head down to the Sugar Shack and have a milkshake.
So when my haircut was done and I put my glasses back on and the stylist asked if I liked it, I wasn't really sure. And I had no idea what I would want her to do with it. But it wasn't the amazing transformation I was hoping for. So I just said I would wear it around for a day or two and decide. I think I'll sleep on it.