It matches my boyish figure

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but here in these United States, it’s been a little warm outside. Some might call it hot, even. So hot that those of us with stringy, straggly, long-ish hair feel compelled to do things like invite Sister (the cosmetologist-in-training) over and have about four inches hacked off, in a desperate attempt to feel the whisper of a breeze on a long-concealed neck.

I think the style is supposed to be hip, but as I fail miserably at “hip,” it seems to have settled more into the category of “dopey.” Monk, in the quick-thinking spirit of self-preservation, argues otherwise, but I am convinced I look like I belong on a paint can. But oh, the breezes I feel! (And the shampoo I waste, as I try to lather up my phantom locks!)

The weekend was filled with massage appointments, three movie rentals (the only one worth mentioning was Transamerica which was interesting and well done, and which I lukewarmly recommend), the great hair massacre, minor yard work (when you pull a weed that’s closer in size to a raspberry bush, you know you’ve left the weeds too long), and the purchase of a tent/canopy thing to cover our patio which has been resembling an open-air boiler room lately. I’m not convinced the canopy was the best purchase (but maybe it just needs some little patio lights, a picnic table and a family barbecue to really come together?), but at least we’ll have some much-needed shade in our desert-ahem-back yard. We’d just paid for the canopy when the skies opened in a burst of laughter and thunder, and poured down this foreign liquid known to others as rain. We had a mini-encore yesterday, and are expecting another one today. If I had known that buying a huge canopy/tent thing (and dragging it over our patio so it stands on a slant, wedged between the house and the hot tub roof, after Monk spent two hours assembling the damn thing) would end the city’s drought problem, I would have done it ages ago. So, you’re welcome, Dallas.

Besides all that non-excitement, my new hair has not been the most successful distraction from the nagging worry in the back of my mind that, although I applied for the big massage therapy exam last week, I’ve forgotten most of what I learned in class and haven’t even glanced at the material in about 3 weeks. This means that Murphy’s Law will sneak up on me in the form of the application process being cut in half, I’ll have a day or two to cram before the big test, and be a complete mess when I walk in to take it, one step away from a nervous breakdown. Short hair, fatigue and procrastination. Suddenly I find myself back in my freshman year of college.

2 comment:

Anonymous The Huzzard said...

You'll be great. You look great.
I dunno about all those plans you have for our canopy...

We'll have to talk....

I love you.

11:39 AM  
Blogger Lisa said...

Want to hear more about the hair. I'm in serious need of a something-new with my do....

And your hubby is so sweet. Ahhhh

11:20 PM  

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