It was a great risk, but it was one I had to take. Taking my beloved Chi straightening iron to Europe with me. And using it so carefree as I did. My first experience in Italy, day one, should have taught me better, yet I still decided to play with a hot iron. As it so happened, upon our arrival in Paris, my straightener checked out. Not even a delayed revival attempt back in the States was to bring it back. The price one must pay for such mischievous behavior is unfortunately rather steep. Especially for a girl on the move and in the midst of a job change. However, when you have hair one genetic mutation short of a horse's such as I do, the card can't be swiped soon enough. Hair straightening is something I take pretty seriously, and thus far there's just been one brand I've trusted in tackling my tresses. Yet, when I went to Target, investment cash in tow, I found myself at a crossroads. Staring at me was my old friend, Chi, and another, shall we say more attractive cousin of Chi, Fhi. Fhi looked to have almost exactly the same DNA as Chi, yet looked a little more sleek in appearance (red has always been my color, gold only so-so), and checked out a few dollars less than Chi. Now while there's no price too high for minimizing the number of Medusa Days, I couldn't help but hear my economically savvy voice chime in (Michigan Ave., fall sales, happy hour deals...). After all, what are return policies for? I walked home with my new amigo, and three days later I'm happy to report my locks and I are doing a-okay.