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I shall survive
1 October 2010 23:29I have had some seriously bad haircuts in my past. And that's just what this is: a seriously bad haircut.
It'll grow out. This shall be my mantra.
It'll grow out. This shall be my mantra.
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8 February 2010 22:05I finally got my hair cut yesterday. Fourth try is the charm, apparently. I think Dar hates it :) She wants to iron it or curl it or heat treat it or possibly all three at once. Definitely wants to color it. Good luck to her on that score, because between the gray hairs and the side effects of various meds, my hair is pretty color resistant. But what the hell . . . it'll grow out.
We've had a lovely spate of clear days this past week. Cold as hell (wait. that doesn't make sense.) but it's been nice seeing sunlight and blue skies. We're back in a snowy pattern tomorrow. Spring can show up any time now. Really.
I'm loving Caprica, and it makes me very nervous that the ratings aren't good. I hope Syfy stands by it, because there's some really great work going on there.
Dar's stomach problems are getting worse, and she finally got a referral for both an x-ray and CTscan. She knows what the problem is, but she can't convince her PCP. The tests will back her up, and she'll finally get some relief. We're all anxious for this to be put right, and no one is more anxious than Dar.
Nothing much else is going on, and I consider that to be good news.
We've had a lovely spate of clear days this past week. Cold as hell (wait. that doesn't make sense.) but it's been nice seeing sunlight and blue skies. We're back in a snowy pattern tomorrow. Spring can show up any time now. Really.
I'm loving Caprica, and it makes me very nervous that the ratings aren't good. I hope Syfy stands by it, because there's some really great work going on there.
Dar's stomach problems are getting worse, and she finally got a referral for both an x-ray and CTscan. She knows what the problem is, but she can't convince her PCP. The tests will back her up, and she'll finally get some relief. We're all anxious for this to be put right, and no one is more anxious than Dar.
Nothing much else is going on, and I consider that to be good news.
1. We accepted another conditional offer on the house. The first couple to sell their house or get bridge financing wins. I hope it's the Mennonites.
2. The realtors we've been dealing with are bozos. The guy is a sexist who doesn't like dealing with our realtor Sue. He's also an observant Mennonite who doesn't work on Sundays and is apparently relying on Divine intervention because he sure as hell is not marketing his clients' property to sell. The woman is a loon. Flat out batshit crazy and more than a bit shady. Among the many clauses she added to her clients' contract were things like a house inspection (fine by us), but then in addition a multifaceted inspection and testing of the wood fireplace, four water tests - three of them to be taken by them randomly so we can't cheat, a new water flow rate test complete with video of the well at different depths (that test runs $700), an inspection of the geothermal unit, clean out the septic tank (it was recently done and can't be done more frequently), plus other nonsensical, intrusive, and expensive tests and inspections. The best one, though, was she wanted us to sign a clause that states that from the signing date and on into perpetuity we would be liable for any harmful chemicals found in the soil. So if 20 years from now a new technology turned up trace evidences of methane from a pig farm that was here a hundred years ago, we'd be sued. Our realtor threw a fit over that one, as did we.
We crossed off most of the tests and inspections as well as that ridiculous environmental clause - which she lifted from some site in the US because it specifically references EPA regs. Canada doesn't have an EPA. And then in the fine print she tried to gyp our realtor out of her rightful portion of the fees. Sue saw it in time and corrected it. Clueless and mendacious. Even her clients no longer trust her. Bad business all around, but it's done. And they're taking our (my) lawn tractor. I thought I was OK about it, but I find that it really does bother me. Not that we can do anything about it now.
3. Dar cut my hair yesterday. It's short and cut straight across a little bit above chin length. I think it looks cute.
4. Remember me saying that Dar and I had worked to save Hannibal's boy cria, Heineken? We got word today that he was dying. Before we could have gotten there, he died. Only six weeks old and so very, very sweet. It's not the fact of his death that weighs on me but the manner of his dying. He was in a lot of pain. They didn't want to get a vet because it's not in their business plan to get vets in to work on boys. Only girls. I would have wanted him euthanized to save him the distress. Not that we can do anything about it now. And that would seem to be the theme for today - we can't do anything about it.
5. Both Conchita and Cinnamon Girl are showing signs of imminent birth. Maybe tomorrow we'll have a new cria (or two) of our own, and I pray that it goes smoothly and they're all healthy.
2. The realtors we've been dealing with are bozos. The guy is a sexist who doesn't like dealing with our realtor Sue. He's also an observant Mennonite who doesn't work on Sundays and is apparently relying on Divine intervention because he sure as hell is not marketing his clients' property to sell. The woman is a loon. Flat out batshit crazy and more than a bit shady. Among the many clauses she added to her clients' contract were things like a house inspection (fine by us), but then in addition a multifaceted inspection and testing of the wood fireplace, four water tests - three of them to be taken by them randomly so we can't cheat, a new water flow rate test complete with video of the well at different depths (that test runs $700), an inspection of the geothermal unit, clean out the septic tank (it was recently done and can't be done more frequently), plus other nonsensical, intrusive, and expensive tests and inspections. The best one, though, was she wanted us to sign a clause that states that from the signing date and on into perpetuity we would be liable for any harmful chemicals found in the soil. So if 20 years from now a new technology turned up trace evidences of methane from a pig farm that was here a hundred years ago, we'd be sued. Our realtor threw a fit over that one, as did we.
We crossed off most of the tests and inspections as well as that ridiculous environmental clause - which she lifted from some site in the US because it specifically references EPA regs. Canada doesn't have an EPA. And then in the fine print she tried to gyp our realtor out of her rightful portion of the fees. Sue saw it in time and corrected it. Clueless and mendacious. Even her clients no longer trust her. Bad business all around, but it's done. And they're taking our (my) lawn tractor. I thought I was OK about it, but I find that it really does bother me. Not that we can do anything about it now.
3. Dar cut my hair yesterday. It's short and cut straight across a little bit above chin length. I think it looks cute.
4. Remember me saying that Dar and I had worked to save Hannibal's boy cria, Heineken? We got word today that he was dying. Before we could have gotten there, he died. Only six weeks old and so very, very sweet. It's not the fact of his death that weighs on me but the manner of his dying. He was in a lot of pain. They didn't want to get a vet because it's not in their business plan to get vets in to work on boys. Only girls. I would have wanted him euthanized to save him the distress. Not that we can do anything about it now. And that would seem to be the theme for today - we can't do anything about it.
5. Both Conchita and Cinnamon Girl are showing signs of imminent birth. Maybe tomorrow we'll have a new cria (or two) of our own, and I pray that it goes smoothly and they're all healthy.
Valentine's Day. Venereal Disease. It was a running joke when I was a kid. I think that's why they now call them STDs. So Happy Valentine's Day that was to you all. I'm still not used to celebrating it, but it's kind of a chocolate swap around these parts, with some little additional things. Chocolate, she is always good, yes.
I got my hair cut today. I went to one of those $20 flat fee places where you just walk in off the street. Since I'd already washed my hair this morning, I didn't get the shampoo and that knocked it back to $16. Really, all she had to do was cut that mullet off and get my hair as close to one length as possible, and she did that. She also murderlized my bangs, but they'll grow. In the meantime, though, I have very scary eyebrows threatening the world. They're mostly grey, so they're very light and almost invisible, except for the hairs that have to be tweezed that are growing dark and randomly around my brows. The impression is that there are little tufts of something kind of poofed above my eyes and they're dueling with these dark blades scattered here and there. Tweezing is a challenge: arthritic hands, tremors, and very, very bad vision. Also thanks to the miracle of aging (and it is a miracle, really) the skin is loose and that adds a difficulty level. You know, I wonder if they make tweezers for people with arthritis? I'll have to check that out.
Today was a much better day than yesterday, thankfully. I was running on very little sleep; in fact very little sleep for the past few days. Besides making me weepy and edgy - never a delightful combo - it also led to a short stint of complete disorientation - - while I was driving. Have you ever suddenly, immediately been soaked in panic? Well, that's what it was like. One second I was driving down Line 86 talking to Dar, and the next instant I had no idea where I was, what vehicle this was, how I was able to drive it, where I was going. PANIC. All I could do was take a deep breath and keep my hands on the wheel, and it passed after a just few seconds. I hate being that tired. Truly.
I was watching Top Chef earlier tonight. (I think it airs earlier in the week in the States.) I enjoy the show - Go, Carla! - but it's pretty much a mystery to me. It's the culinary equivalent of watching National Geographic exploring strange new cultures. I understand cooking somewhat, but I have no feel or appreciation for the science of it. What to substitute for what. What the individual ingredients add to the process and not just to the taste. I have a lousy palate; I can't identify that many different flavors or spices. It's never bothered me because I'm hardly a gourmand. I'll occasionally get a craving for something, but mostly I just eat to ease hunger and for the necessary dietary nutrients. I've never understood waiting in long lines to get into a restaurant and certainly never understood spending a lot of money for a plate of food. Obviously many do. I find it fascinating to listen to the food judges critiquing the dishes that the cheftestants have cooked for them. I'm trying to learn an appreciation for this art form as I have for others that were strange to me. Maybe I'll get to take cooking lessons someday.
Anyway . . . long day. My unruly eyebrows and I must find some rest.
I got my hair cut today. I went to one of those $20 flat fee places where you just walk in off the street. Since I'd already washed my hair this morning, I didn't get the shampoo and that knocked it back to $16. Really, all she had to do was cut that mullet off and get my hair as close to one length as possible, and she did that. She also murderlized my bangs, but they'll grow. In the meantime, though, I have very scary eyebrows threatening the world. They're mostly grey, so they're very light and almost invisible, except for the hairs that have to be tweezed that are growing dark and randomly around my brows. The impression is that there are little tufts of something kind of poofed above my eyes and they're dueling with these dark blades scattered here and there. Tweezing is a challenge: arthritic hands, tremors, and very, very bad vision. Also thanks to the miracle of aging (and it is a miracle, really) the skin is loose and that adds a difficulty level. You know, I wonder if they make tweezers for people with arthritis? I'll have to check that out.
Today was a much better day than yesterday, thankfully. I was running on very little sleep; in fact very little sleep for the past few days. Besides making me weepy and edgy - never a delightful combo - it also led to a short stint of complete disorientation - - while I was driving. Have you ever suddenly, immediately been soaked in panic? Well, that's what it was like. One second I was driving down Line 86 talking to Dar, and the next instant I had no idea where I was, what vehicle this was, how I was able to drive it, where I was going. PANIC. All I could do was take a deep breath and keep my hands on the wheel, and it passed after a just few seconds. I hate being that tired. Truly.
I was watching Top Chef earlier tonight. (I think it airs earlier in the week in the States.) I enjoy the show - Go, Carla! - but it's pretty much a mystery to me. It's the culinary equivalent of watching National Geographic exploring strange new cultures. I understand cooking somewhat, but I have no feel or appreciation for the science of it. What to substitute for what. What the individual ingredients add to the process and not just to the taste. I have a lousy palate; I can't identify that many different flavors or spices. It's never bothered me because I'm hardly a gourmand. I'll occasionally get a craving for something, but mostly I just eat to ease hunger and for the necessary dietary nutrients. I've never understood waiting in long lines to get into a restaurant and certainly never understood spending a lot of money for a plate of food. Obviously many do. I find it fascinating to listen to the food judges critiquing the dishes that the cheftestants have cooked for them. I'm trying to learn an appreciation for this art form as I have for others that were strange to me. Maybe I'll get to take cooking lessons someday.
Anyway . . . long day. My unruly eyebrows and I must find some rest.
So that "not that short" is not misconstrued to be "about that short."
I got my hair cut. I have tiny hair. Tiny, tiny hair. I think it looks very butch - and not in a good way.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darlong thinks it's "wispy." But she loves me so that doesn't count. No, I take as my yardstick the reactions of both browncoat and kernlem who each said separately upon stumbing across me and my new 'do: "Oh! Haircut." ::dead silence::
It'll grow. I'll get used to it. At least it still looks better than when I screwed up the dye job and it came out bright yellow. At least it's better than that.
Yay?
I got my hair cut. I have tiny hair. Tiny, tiny hair. I think it looks very butch - and not in a good way.
darlong thinks it's "wispy." But she loves me so that doesn't count. No, I take as my yardstick the reactions of both browncoat and kernlem who each said separately upon stumbing across me and my new 'do: "Oh! Haircut." ::dead silence::It'll grow. I'll get used to it. At least it still looks better than when I screwed up the dye job and it came out bright yellow. At least it's better than that.
Yay?