John and I are finally back from our East Coast trip. I don’t know what I was thinking: one week is waaaay too long. Note to self: five days max. Well, aren’t I in the holiday spirit, right? To be honest, the holidays exhaust me. I enjoyed seeing friends and family, but Jesus, something about sleeping in a different bed every night and shuttling back and forth for a week just makes me tired. Super tired. Like Shingles tired. Seriously, I slept like 10 hours a day, with naps in between. Must be a true sign of my introverted nature: socializing drains me, me time recharges me. Anyway, all is well. The family is healthy. Mom and Dad are regular exercisers now. Dad calculated the distance of their neighborhood circle, so he estimates they walk 2+ miles per day. Plus, they’re like using treadmills and shit. Very bizarre, but great news nonetheless. Noorie James and Yebidiya (the grandfolks) are their usual busy body selves. Couldn’t attend the lunch with the in-laws because they had an event to attend. In-laws are fine: always up on the news. Their dog Oliver is frighteningly obese, but that’s what happens when consumption far exceeds exercise. For some reason, I’m bothered by my passive position on the matter. I should have been more vocal, more suggestive. His body is so wide, he’s like a coffee table. But that’s the thing about life: you can’t control other people, you can only control yourself.
So I’m starting the New Year off right with tons of self work. John insisted that we draft a list of measureable objectives and goals for 2007. In addition to the deeper issues that I must address, I figured one easy way to introduce the new me was with another hair job. I know, women and their hair. Well in my typical cheapie fashion, I opted for an “intro” or “trial” job, meaning, I answered a posting on Craiglist. I did this in August when I had my hair highlighted and cut by a salon trainee. I was pleased with the results. Well yesterday was a whole other ballgame. Appointment was at 3. I was told I’d be done by 5. I was there until 8. Yes, 8 p.m. on New Year’s eve. And the hair is a disaster. Granted it was highlights and cut for $20, but after five hours of labor, I didn’t feel right paying someone $4/hr even if the job was a mess. I asked for red highlights with a razor-cut. I got a streaky bleach-job, with unevenly bleached browns and BLONDS and a blunt cut, achieved with a razor. Then the salon was freezing cold and dimly lit. Five hours later, and color was never even put in. The color was achieved through bleaching alone. I was sick of sitting, so I figured, I should go home, give it a few days, then go back to get it recut and dyed. I got home, and John had already eaten dinner. He didn’t say much other than: Don’t go back. So of course now it’s New Year’s Day. I’m never one to be that attached to hair, but Jesus, I was in the bathroom forever trying to do something about the ‘do. Of course the salon is closed today, and tomorrow I’m back to work. Fucking a. What to do. Guess I’ll pull it back and hope people don’t think I’m too punked out. Sigh. So much for the happy new start.