DALE

I don't exactly remember the first time I met Dale (that seems strange given his personality), but it wasn't too long after that meeting when he said

"You should let me do your hair -- I can make it look so much better."

Let's just say Dale is not bashful; I like that (to a point ;-0 )

I find that there are some people (thankfully) who like me a lot, but, it isn't necessarily because of my accuracy in forecasting, or my "bubbly demeanor", but rather, it's my hair. In a strange way, my hair has come to define me, much moreso here in DC than in any other TV market.

"How tall are you?" still ranks as the number one question I get asked. But quickly coming up on its heels is "Who does your hair?"

Meet Dale -- my stylist, my harshest critic ("I am in town watching you right now and your hair sucks! We need to do something about it RIGHT NOW!), and my friend.

I have to laugh because I can see him getting "into the zone" towards the end of my appointment. When my hair is finally colored (you didn't think all that red was real, did you?), washed (some 5 times because as Dale likes to say "You have so much freaking hair Kim!), and trimmed, Dale gets into the moment... the moment where he becomes one with the hair. I can see it in his eyes -- he looks straight ahead into the mirror. Slightly sucking in his cheeks, he makes this face, almost as if *he* is wearing the new do. He'll flick his head to the side, toss his fingers through my hair to get it to fling just right and there he goes...right into the ZONE.

I was able to take an action shot or two the last time I was up in Dallas, PA. I've never travelled so many miles to get my hair done -- for ANYONE. I guess it speaks to his talent. LOVE YOU DALE !! (Now let's hope the next time I'm late, he'll remember this blog update...)