It started Friday evening, though, really. I went to get my hair cut, to the same stylist I've been using for the last year. He seemed in a bit of a hurry--his best friend was there waiting to get styled for a photo shoot--but when I left there I looked okay. Since then, though, it's just been bad, bad, bad. I HATE it. Now, I am the most easy-going person in the world when it comes to hair. I've let friends cut it with office shears, always figuring "it's only hair," so when I say I have summoned up actual hatred towards a haircut, you know it must truly suck. I guess it looked okay when he styled it because, you know, he's a stylist, but I am most definitely not, and I can't get it to look like anything other than hammered crap. I would very much like to return and make him fix it, the first time in my life I've ever considered doing such a thing, but he is OUT OF TOWN ALL WEEK, and I can't. I don't have the time or energy to search for another stylist at the moment, so I guess I'll just live with it until he gets back. My co-workers insist it's not that bad, but I know better. I wish I could describe it to you--basically it just looks like two different haircuts, one from the top of my ears up, one from the top of my ears down, and I don't like either one of them. Sigh. I sort of have...wings. And flaps. Right now I very much wish I could use those wings and flaps like an airplane, and just sail away.
So that's when the annoyance started. It continued through the weekend, when for some reason I started to get what I can only describe as a crick in my chest muscles. I fall asleep in one position, all is well, and then when I roll over it feels as though someone is stabbing me in my sternum. A slight shift of position, and it goes away. Another slight shift, and it's back. It's making me crazy, not to mention doing wonders for my quality of sleep. And speaking of sleep, the quantity of my sleep is all messed up, too--thank you Daylight Saving Time! I didn't need that hour, really. You take it.
And then today has just been one little aggravation after another. Little aggravations, not life-threatening, by any means, but just one after the other. On my way home for lunch, I was passed by a large van in a big hurry, and there must have been a giant pothole in his lane, is all I can think (and it's been raining here all weekend), because my car was suddenly enveloped in a sea of mud. Lovely, just lovely. I continued home, only to sit for several minutes waiting for a stinking train to get the hell out of my way. Delightful, just delightful. When I arrived home, I decided I'd better hook up the garden hose and try to wash some of the mud off the car before it baked into clay. Well, the hose had apparently been champing at the bit all winter, sitting there disconnected, and it got all giddy and immediately did its best impression of a Wham-O Water Wiggle,
and soaked me from head to toe. Refreshing, so refreshing. And if I thought my hair looked bad BEFORE, well...let's just say that when I went out into the backyard, my stray cat Dolly took one look at me, hissed, and ran out of the yard. She did. I'm not making this up, sadly. We're at the time of year when neither my heating nor air-conditioning is kicking on, which is great for the utility bill, but not so great for the air quality inside, so when I went inside the house smelled...not BAD, exactly, just stale. The cats had taken it upon themselves to reposition every one of the area rugs. Ah, sweet kitties.
I'm back at work now. I have a headache. My plans to dazzle the blogosphere with the world's most brilliant, insightful, humorous post--in honor of my six-month blogiversary--have fallen to the wayside. (I fully realize, of course, that today's post likely would have fallen far short of that laudable goal, anyway, but a girl can pretend...uh, I mean dream, can't she?)
I just want to go home. Unfortunately, I have a rehearsal this evening, so I'm quite sure the fun is not over yet, by any means.
Oh well, tomorrow is another day. (/Scarlett O'Hara voice)
Feel free to tell me I'm being a big, whiny baby. ;)
13 comments:
It sounds like you need liquor, my friend. Have a drink and call it a day. :-)
I totally hear you on the hair. It's happened to be a lot. =/
How about another stylist at the same salon? If he's not the owner, I bet the owner would fix it for you.
i'd offer to fix it but then you might hate me afterwards.
You gotta bust out the Chandler Bing voice every so often... there are times that no other response will suffice.
whaddya mean your six month blog isn't impressive? you put a photo of a water wiggle up for viewing!
oh, and of course i'm laughing at your escapades, even though i love you... but really, i can't help it, because a vigilante garden hose is some comedy. com-mehh-deeeee.
First let me congratulate you on your 6 months blogiversary! Woohoo!
Second, there are days like that, but don't forget, this year is YOUR year! ;-)
Hope the rest of your week will be better and that you'll manage your hair!
stef, I did very much need a drink. I didn't get one, though, because of rehearsal. No rehearsal tonight, though. ;)
malia, unfortunately, my stylist works alone. So I'm just going to tough it out. The good thing, though, is that nobody else seems to think it looks as bad as I do.
gorillabuns, got your scissors handy? Come on over! I promise not to hate you. ;)
tom, it's true. What did we do before Chandler Bing?
george, I forgive you for laughing at my pain. Because if I saw the same thing happen to someone else, I'd be laughing my ass off.
stinkypaw, thanks. It IS still my year, isn't it? The hair can only get better!
You know I understand the hating your hair thing! Sorry for the rough day. Definitely have a margarita for lunch today! =)
Happy 6-monthiversary! Woot!
I would say something like, "Well, it's bound to get better today!", but that might jinx you. Of course, I've alreadysaid it anyway. So I'm a sucky friend.
Hmm.
Ummm.
I got pretty piccies on my blog! Maybe that'll cheer you up? Or maybe a White Russian would work better.
-r-, I'm almost tempted to just shave all my hair off. Almost. (What if I have a funny-looking head and never knew it?)
mary, would that be a Russian like on my "list," or the drink? Hee. Either way I'm sure it would make me feel better.
Both! ;)
Can you put your hair up at all in some kind of "messy up-do?" When I don't have to do my hair... or when I get a bad cut... it lives in a clip or pony until someone can fix it. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is, but I know exactly how you feel when that happens!
Margaritas. Always a cure.
dcmm, alas, it's too short for any sort of up-do. Margaritas, though--that I can do.
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