There are very few things in life that women take as seriously as their hair. As a majority, we don’t just trust our tresses to just anyone. The process of finding a stylist is one of the most grueling undertakings known to mankind or, actually, womankind. To prove their competency, we must see examples of their masterpieces, consult friends who have trusted their skill (kind of like our own hair guinea pigs), and have each of the finalists fill out a 17 page application that includes an “If you screw up my hair and make me cry, you will quit your job and move to Omaha”, legally-binding document. So you can just imagine the sheer panic I felt back in August as I walked through the Flagstaff mall and discovered that Regis Salon where my hair-genius, Stevie, resided had disappeared. I promise you, if there were less people around, I would have grabbed hold of those bars blocking the entryway and cried out for her… hoping she would magically appear from the back of the darkened store. But, alas, I have some dignity. Click To Continue Reading…