bangs.

Three years later, I have finally found the one. They know my secrets, my life, my questions. They have advice, resources and endless information. And at the end of the day, they make me look good. Their hands stroked my head, caressing each strand of hair with pursed lips.

Finally finding a good hairdresser makes life line up.

"Seriously, I have no idea what was going on with that chick before you," said my hairdresser, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder with a smile. The previous client had been escorted out by police because she failed to pay her bill. Twenty dollars was recovered from her wallet (which also apparently had no form of ID, credit or health care card). Oh, and this information came from the front desk girl who popped up to tell my girl, who had worked hard for the past few hours.

"If you need information, want help with something or want an opinion on the best restaurant, one of us will know it," said my stylist with a wave of her hand over to the shampoo and colour boys. "If one of us does know, the girl next to you will!"

As she washed and treated my damaged ends, whirling pieces of hair around her fingers and cutting, we gabbed like old friends. Politics, the war in Afghanistan, makeup, men - nothing was off-limits.

I have been hunting for a hair stylist since week one. I thoroughly believe that if you have good hair that makes you happy the way it is styled every morning, you can never have a bad day. After one too many bad cuts, sitting silently in the chair with a mute stylist butchering my locks and begin frustrated, I resolved to only get my hair cut in BC. Not anymore.

"So many people get into this profession because they just want a job," my girl said. Case and point all the bad stylists I've had.

With therapy costing people so much for an objective view of the world by another (which I totally respect, don't get me wrong) it's a whole lot more interesting to talk to your stylist. It's been said before, but seriously, they act as my shrinks, and are able to share stories about their personal lives. As our appointment went on, I found that my girl and I had so much more in common, but being 27, she had been around the block a couple of times and had great advice.

I floated out of the salon with a fresh hair and outlook on life. Who says that therapy has to be bad? I'm invigorated.

All I can say is thank you to my lovely friend Christie who referred me to my new stylist. I've finally found my girl.