Collapsing Sisters and Dancing Sushi

Well. I got The Hurr Did. And it was a strange experience.

First things first. The sister did the pre-colour shuftie. And yes, I'm still 31 and No Grey Hairs Yet. So she put in an artificial colour over the top of my Still Naturally Vibrant at 31 hair colour.

Afterwards she went to cut my hair, but one of her stylist friends dropped by and did a shuftie through my hair. Pauline asked the nice stylist lady's advice on how to shape my lovely locks. And the nice stylist lady gave her advice. Then started cutting my hair to show Pauline exactly what she meant. And kept cutting it. And kept cutting it.

I was frozen in shock. Pauline was open-mouthed, staring. I found my voice.

- Y'know, no-one except Pauline has ever cut my hair since I was 23

I squeaked. The nice stylist lady looked at me, smiled and kept cutting. I think she thought I was about 25. I felt I needed to tell her it's been 9 years since anyone else did my hair. And that the last time I had a haircut by anyone other than Pauline, it was in Oxford Street, London, when I was bored of being told I looked like posh spice (in her brown bob pointy finger relatively curvy pouty days).

Rather unfortunately, I chose the day I was going to collapse with a killer brain infection and the same week as posh spice got a new haircut to get my haircut.

I remember coming out of the salon feeling all light and strange, and catching my reflection in the window thinking

- I remind me of someone...can't think who...

I floated into my office, where the receptionist met me and screamed

- Oh. My. God. You've had a Posh Spice! It's gorgeous.

I remember her flapping a magazine at me. I had indeed just had a posh spice done. I was horrified.

Luckily, the horror lasted only briefly, as collapse was imminent, and my horribly expensive haircut grew raggy and unruly in a variety of hospitals and sick beds.

So anyway. The new hair. It's fab. I love it. I'll stick up a photo when I get my camera. But it's WEIRD! I keep expecting to collapse or something. But I'm feeling pretty healthy.

Apart from this weird craving for sushi. I don't get it. It's been on me all day. All I can think about is

- ohmygod my sister didn't cut my hair and mmmmmmm wish I was in that fab new sushi bar on Botanic avenue in Belfast.

Sushi dishes have been dancing all day in my head, with their seductively oily bite-sized portions, stick rice, and fish eggs sparkling in the spotlight.

My inside brain is weird you might think. But my outside brain is google. So I thought if my inside brain can see dancing sushi, what will google see?

The answer?

THIS. And THIS.