Ok, so, last Saturday, I went to the mall with Beloved, and we met some friends of mine from the office outside the beauty parlor, and we all went in and introduced ourselves to the amazing young woman (she's all of twenty) whose job it would be to perform a transformation of my looks for my fifty-sixth birthday.
Twenty of my co-workers had contributed to a fund to make this happen.
Over to the sink, washy wash, back to the chair, blow dry, cut, color (matching brown to wipe out the considerable amount of gray creeping in), streak (auburn), brush, and voila! No, not yet.
Next came the face. I'd been asked to bring in all my makeup; she didn't like my mascara and lipstick and sent some of my compadres on a quick trip to the department store across the hall. Then we did face.
All this sounds simple enough but I was in that chair three hours.
Ok, now a quick drive back to the library. I understood there would be a potluck but --
-- it was a full scale surprise birthday party. Twenty of my fellow library workers were there, and some special friends, and some of my student workers as well.
There were presents and speeches. And people said such shockingly nice things that I cried my new mascara right off.