it's been a year

It's been a year in all kind of grimly memorable ways, of course - but it's been over a year, in fact, since my hair last encountered scissors or color.  That would have been February 27th ... it was slightly unnerving to learn that my hairdresser had Covid in February, which she experienced as allergies, and to wonder about the allergies, the sore throat, the dry cough that I had about eight days after I saw her.  I don't think ... but I'll never know.   It's a relief no longer to have dead rodent colored hair, but I wouldn't let too much shearing take place - I've rather liked having longer hair again.

But what else can happen in a year?  My - our - hairdresser seems to have taken a swerve to the crazy right.  Alice heard more about pedophiles in Hollywood than I did, buried in the depths of my admin-loaded computer - but I heard enough.  What to do?  Just acknowledge that she's a terrific hairdresser, and ignore the rest?  The only awkward moment so far was when she tried to tell me how much I'd enjoy Love Island, and never having heard of it, I thought she must be talking about a travel show called Love Ireland ... Advice on this dilemma welcome ...