Look, this whole ‘blogging regularly’ thing is overrated. I prefer to duck! to weave! to capoeira between your expectations and your demands! Also, I haven’t really been here and it was my birthday and I just suck, alright, I admit it.
I got my hair cut off (me: “NO. Layers.” hairdresser: “Of course not!” result: Layers, duh) which is OK now, but in the first few days there was much ranting to the air and flailing of arms and judicious putting-the-hair-up experiments, because nothing says ‘I hate my hair’ like tortoiseshell combs. This is why my usual haircut is a straight blunt cut, layered round the face. I even know how to ask for it,see? But oh, no, I get BORED, and let the hairdresser DO things, and even when I see them stealthily cutting layers into my hair I think, “oh no, that’s not a LAYER, after all I asked for no layers, it just must be the angle I’m sitting at,” and BEHOLD, my hair is all layered to shit and the hairdresser looks delighted, like they have surprised me with THE VERY HAIRCUT I have secretly wanted all my boring blunt-cut life, yet have always been too clueless to ask for. Which, suprising nobody, is filled with layer upon layer upon layer, like a Sarah Lee danish. Anyway, after pulling all my hair straight back off my head and seriously investigating this new trend in headbands, my natural lethargy has kicked in and I’m over it. Now I just leave it flat and layered, looking like rats have chewed on my head. This always happens when my hair gets layered, but hairdressers have primal hair instincts and squeal “LAYERS!” when they see my head and again with the rats. Bah. It looks fine when I do it properly, but that requires a hairdryer and clipping my hair into sections and drying with a round brush and this mysterious stuff called Product and really, how can people do this every morning? Oh, right. Because you don’t want your hair to look like rats have chewed it. What if I tell you that you could sleep for an extra 20 MINUTES if you put up with the rats? No? Right. Just me, then.
Oh I forgot the other thing about the hair. I picked something up from reception and one of the receptionists, who is about 21 and whom I really very sincerely like, said, “Oh! You got your hair cut! It looks great!” I put no stock in this, because really, what else can you say? I routinely tell people who look like crap that they look great. Because what good would it do to say the opposite? Anyway, I said, “Thanks!” or something, because again, what good would it do, and she continued to talk about the colour (and I do like the colour) and then went back to the haircut. “I really like it!” she enthused. “It makes you look older.”
To someone who turned 32 two days before.
This, frankly, is the most awesome compliment I have ever received. Because she SINCERELY meant it. It manages to insult and delight in equal measure! What more could you possibly ask for?