Oh, Where is my Hairbrush?

Hello friends.  Sorry I've been a bit sporadic in my blogging as of late.  It's a busy life I lead.  I'm typing this from a lodge in a small town in Illinois, in fact.  In the next few weeks I'll be spending time in California (not work-related, thankfully), Detroit, and Arizona.

Anywho, I had a quick, amusing story to relate. 

About a week ago, Geoff made the obvservation that my hair was long overdue to be colored and encouraged me to head off to the salon for some pampering.  I (gladly) accepted his offer and head out after work one evening to get some blonde highlights.

It was a particularly window day in Fargo.  Geoff had a study session on campus until late.  When I arrived at the house around 8:30pm, the wind had blown a 2-inch snow drift on the driveway.  And, of course, snow started to fall from the sky at the same time.  I parked the car across the street and proceeded to blow the driveway clear with the power shovel.  The power shovel blows snow about 20 feet.  Which is good.  Usually. 

It's not so good when the wind is blowing 20 mph at you.  By the time I'm done shoveling, snow has landed on my head...melted from the heat of my body...and re-frozen due to the wind chill temps below zero.  Once I get into the house, my head begins to defrost. 

Needless to say, my new hair looks scary.  Very scary. 

I go to brush it out before Geoff gets home so I can dazzle him with my lovely locks.  But I can't find the brush. 

I look on the bathroom counter when I know I left it.  No brush.  I look in the bathroom cabinet.  No brush.  I look in the bedroom.  No brush.  I look in the office.  No brush.  I look in the kitchen.  No brush.  I'm running out of ideas. 

I text Geoff to see if he remembers seeing it, "Do you know where my brush is?"

Moments later he responds, "Possibly in my bag..."

I may have to rethink encouraging him to grow out his hair...

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