December 19, 2003
December 19, 2003 - 1:53 p.m.
I am suffering from some extreme haircut remorse right now. You *think* that you've expressed with super-hyper clarity what you want. An a-line, ending at the chin, clipped at the back, with texturizing along the line. Dude. This is not complicated. But what the hairdresser hears is put a bowl on my head and chop. Sigh. It's about an inch too short all around, which will be fine in a month, but doesn't help me for Saturday night's party at Scratcher's brother's house. I'm going to have to femme up in a big way. Lipstick, heels, and a low-cut dress might make me feel a little bit better.
It's lovely that so many of you liked my rattle yesterday. Devbear wins the award for patience - she was moblogging from Kyoto! How much does that rock?! Go take a look at her pics, okay?
So help me god, if I spend one more minute on the phone with either the refi guy or Bank of America, someone's going down in flames. I am still fighting with the stolen ATM card, still trying to finish the refinance (Sac County didn't publish my transfer of title in 1999, GRR!), and still close to broke. Merry freakin' Christmas, everyone.
No, no, it's not that bad, but I'm ready for a few days off of worrying about money and gifts and and and... Aren't all of you? Don't you want to just relax and be with the people you care about? What the hell happened to the holidays, anyway? When did it become so freakin' hard? It's supposed to be about appreciation and affection. (Unless, of course, you celebrate Chanukah or the actual birth of Christ, which are entirely different balls of, um, something other than wax.) So here's what I suggest: go gift-free next time. Tell everybody that you just want to spend time with them. Forget the shopping and the wrapping. Try interacting instead.
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