I'm able to schedule a manicure and a pedicure. I can find people to put goo on my face and peel it off to reveal much younger layers. I can even schedule an appointment to have hair removed from any bit of me that needs to be hairless.

But I can't find a good hairdresser. This reduces me to using color from a box-- and for the most part I'm pretty good with that. What I can't do at home is a cut.

I used to have one. I kept him after I moved 800 miles away from him, because it's not easy to find a man who can laugh at your jokes and do a full blowout in 30 minutes or less. He was a genius.

And then he up and left town. The story I heard was that he and his partner, who also worked at the salon, had a blowout of their own in the salon parking lot. Whether he quit or was fired following this incident was never clear to me.

I heard he went to work at a nudist colony. As a bartender. I think it must be the same nudist colony David Sedaris wrote about in his first book, because I can't imagine there are that many forward-thinking nudist colonies in eastern Tennessee.

So to sum up, my hairdresser broke up with his boyfriend and left town to become a naked bartender, leaving me to cope with dry split ends all alone. Leaving me to cope with all the other stuff without sound advice on styling or life's problems. But I'd totally let him cut my hair naked if he served me a margarita first.