A Letter and Hair Fun

Dear BFH:

I know actually doing any work would cut into your hours and hours of talking about being on the South Beach diet and funny/stupid things your demon spawn has done, but that doesn't mean you can pass everything that is assigned to you off on me. I have checked several times now, and still cannot seem to find the sign I'm apparently wearing that says, "Give me all the shit you don't want to do. I'm not busy."

Cut down the chatting a bit, and maybe you'd have the time/motivation to do your own work.

Thanks a bunch,

JaneofAllTrades

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There. I feel slightly better now. I'll feel even better once I leave work after coming in for a few hours tomorrow morning and then when I get the paycheck with 8 hours overtime on it.

That will be nice.

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Last night I had a hair appointment.

I knew I'd been wanting something a bit different for a while, but I just didn't know what.

My stylist had one of those hair ideas magazines sitting next to her station, so I grabbed it when it was time to cut my hair. I found one I liked, pointed it out and told her what I liked about it.

Ladies and gentlemen, there was a massacre, and my bangs as I knew them did not survive.

I have baby bangs.

I have never before had baby bangs.

They're VERY SHORT.

But, I think they make my eyes stand out. And people have been complimenting me on the cut.
(Of course, they could be totally lying through their teeth and laughing behind my back, but I'm trying to believe that people wouldn't be that mean.)

I've spent nearly every minute since I got the haircut alternating between thinking, "Oh my god. What did I do?" and "It's new and fun and cute. And it'll grow."

I had her cut the rest of my hair with a razor, so it's all choppy and messy-looking.

When she got done, and I saw the final product, I said, "I'm a punk rock girl!"

I've had that song in my head ever since.

At least I'll fit in a bit better when we go to the CD release party for the Howling Diablos this weekend.

I'm excited for it. It's been a while since the husband and I have actually gone out anywhere, at night, on a weekend. I was excited to actually have something to say when a co-worker asked me, "So, do you have anything fun planned for this weekend?"

Yay!

Hopefully it'll rock the hizzouse, as I expect it will. The best part is that TheMister is already on that side of the state for work, so after the bar we'll (my sister, her fiance and I) just be crashing in his hotel room. Thanks, my husband's company!

I'm excited that I get to hang out with him, even while he's out of town for work.

And hopefully the cats will refrain from killing and/or eating each other while I'm gone.

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Two more short things before I go:

-Someone from Yale reads me. I wonder if they're disappointed by the lack of intellectual or coherant writing in here?

-The Mediterranean chicken salad from Wendy's is da bomb.

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Edited to add: The beautiful and fantabulously talented Luvabeans asked for pictures of the new haircut. I'll take some when I get home.

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Okay, here you go. I was going to take one last night, but then I started watching movies, and cried, and looked liked shit. So, this is from this morning.