is nice to have Fred around, even if he’s on his computer and I’m upstairs reading, or I’m on my computer and he’s upstairs watching a movie with the spud. Or when we’re both on our computers and the spud is chattering away at us about her life.
I left work at 12:30 for a cut and color. And I mean a serious cut and color. Under the lights at the hair place (I guess "salon" would be the correct term) my hair looked very red. The hairstylist (Bev) pointed out that there were three distinct bands of color in my hair – which is obviously what you get when you make your husband color your hair at home and then never buy the same color twice in a row. We went for a light-medium brown, and it’s nice to see it all one color again. As for the cut, I brought in a picture of Kathryn Erbe from Stir of Echoes, and asked for the same cut, only a tad longer. She chopped off about 6 very damaged-looking ends before she got into the layering and such. I was there for two hours, and by the time I left I knew that Bev’s going to be my stylist for life – or at least until she quits her job. Once I find a stylist I like, I stick with them for as long as I can. When I moved from Maine to Rhode Island, I always waited until I was in Maine for the weekend to get my hair cut.
The problem with my hair is that I have a lot of it, but it’s all very fine and flyaway. I’d love to have long, straight hair, but that’s just not a look I can pull off. Once my hair gets to a certain length, it does the triangle-head thing where the top is flat and lank no matter what I do, and the ends are bushy and frizzy-looking. Not to mention that from about the tips of my ears down, my hair is wavy, so it always looks like I’m trying to grow out a perm.
Of course, I will never once be able to duplicate this look, because I’m pretty much a wash-and-go kinda gal, but it’s nice that it looks good for a little while. At least until the little hairs she dropped down my shirt start itching and I have to go take a shower.
I don’t think Fred likes it, but I hope he’ll get used to it. He’s always said he likes long hair, but it’s not like he plays with it or anything, so it shouldn’t be too much of a difference for him.
My parents got a dog a few weeks ago. He’s a cute little thing, judging by the picture my Dad sent:
They got him at the animal shelter, and he was already named Scrappy, but my Mom said they would probably change his name. They ended up naming him Benji. He looks like Benji, doesn’t he? It sounds like he’s spoiled rotten. When I get on the phone with my Mom, she spends as much time talking about him as I do talking about the kitten. Scary, eh?
On the way home from the movie store (after I had my hair cut), I realized that traffic had come to a standstill for no apparent reason. Finally, I noticed that there was a funeral procession coming from the opposite direction. Once the procession ended, traffic started up again. What’s up with that? I guess they have a lot more respect for the dead down here in the South, ’cause back home if we saw a funeral procession we’d just keep on going.
I don’t know when I’ll next be updating. Perhaps this weekend, perhaps not. I’ll be recovering from my life-threatening 5-minute ear surgery on Monday, so I don’t know if I’ll feel like it then, either. If you don’t want to have to keep checking back, go over there in the left column, and click on the link to join my notify list.
Y’all have a good weekend now, y’hear?
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02/25/2000