metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My hair looks like shit Getting older is a funny thing. In fact, it is a laugh a minute. Not really. But it is a funny thing. My perspective has changed and my body has changed and yet, I feel the same. My hair looks like shit. I called to make an appointment with Rhonda, but it had been so long since I had my hair cut (in April, before �the wedding�) that I forgot her name and when I called the salon I said I want to make an appointment with Phyllis, there was silence on the other end of the line. That is when I knew I had the name wrong. So, I tried Olivia, but that wasn�t it either. Finally the poor receptionist asked me for my name, probably wondering if I even knew that, but I fooled her and remembered my own name and she typed it into the system and said do you mean Rhonda, and I said Yeah! Sorry, she no longer works here. What!? This can�t be!!!! She has worked there for 18 years, for fuck sake. 18 years. It has taken me a very long time to find someone in this little shithole town who can cut my hair halfway decent and now she leaves and of course they will not tell me where she went�. Bastards! When I lived in LA I had a great stylist. She knew me. She knew my hair. We�d try new things and they would always work. I had no qualms whatsoever about my hair cuts because I knew they would be fabulous. I had long hair with her (below my waist), I had short hair with her (less than an inch long), and through it all she performed perfectly. I even flew back to LA a couple of times just to get my hair cut, but that wasn�t really cost effective and so I tried to find someone here. I saw Christie, Cindy, someone I don�t remember her name, Candy, Melody, Tamara, someone else I don�t remember his name, Leon, Craig, Robert and now Rhonda. But Rhonda is gone. K says I could probably find her by calling all the salons in town and asking for Rhonda. It had been so long she probably thought I was going to someone else. But I wasn�t. And you can tell because my hair looks like shit. I have sat holding a picture for a stylist(?) [one of the ones whose name escapes me], HOLDING A PICTURE THE ENTIRE TIME MY HAIR WAS CUT!!! It took about 1 � hours. It looked like I did it myself with a dull machete � no make that a butter knife. Then there was the guy [don�t remember his name either] who, all the while he was cutting my hair he was talking about a man whose wife left him for another woman, and I commiserated that indeed that was harsh. Then I put my glasses on to see my haircut and I looked like a classic dyke. Classic. I have nothing against lesbians, but I do not want to look like the dykey kind. I think he was just so caught up in the story, that he channeled a lesbo cut for me. When I went in the door after that haircut, K was doing dishes. He looked up as I came in, saw my face, saw my hair, said nothing and turned around to finish the dishes. He is such a wise man, sometimes. I looked like I needed to roll a pack of cigarettes in my T-shirt sleeve and wear my wallet on a chain�. It was bad. I got google eyes from lesbians everywhere I went. It was short, too, so not much could be done with it. But, I digress. So now my hair looks like shit, Rhonda is alive and well and cutting hair I don�t know where, and I have an appointment with a new one, Jennifer, next Wednesday. So, there�s that. Last night I went home to a dark house. Hurricane Ivan had been there and knocked the power out. Since I live in the sticks, I need electricity to run my well. So no power equals no water. Luckily we were smart kids when we left for work yesterday morning and filled the bathtubs up so we would have water to flush the toilets. Except that after we left for work and we were late anyway, I suddenly could not remember if I turned my tub off or not. So, had to turn back around go home and look and see that in fact I did turn it off, and just didn�t remember doing it. K was pissed and late for work. [sigh] So it was dark all night, I got the oil lamps out and we played cards awhile. K beat me at gin, all the while asking me questions about how to play the game. Geh So I would tell him how to play, he would gin and then say, ok if you�re so smart how come you aren�t winning? He cracks me up. The bastard. It was nice lying in bed with the window open, no air conditioning, no fan, but only the soft breeze coming through. It was dark, dark, dark and quiet. No little lights everywhere, like the lighted light switch, the alarm clock face, my electric toothbrush charger, the thermostat, the vcr, the tivo, the light plug, the coffee maker, the microwave, all saying �we�re on, we�re working� and making my house so very bright with their tiny, tiny lights. No. Last night it was totally dark and quiet and I slept very well, thank you very much. Very well, until about 1 am when the power came back on and every light in the house came on and the TV came on and woke me the fuck up. Very well, until then, when technology again reigned and took over my world. I have lost the will to knit. I was soooo very knit gung ho, or gung ho knit. I decided to knit everyone a scarf for xmas. I bought yarn and more yarn, in this ones favorite color and in that ones favorite color. Yarn, yarn and more yarn. I have it. It is everywhere. And now, I do not want to knit. So. See how I am? Another glimpse into my being: I had chili for lunch yesterday. I didn�t really want chili. What I wanted was to go buy an umbrella because I forgot mine yesterday morning even after I went back to turn off the tub that wasn�t on. After I bought a new umbrella I was going to buy a turkey and swiss on rye. But the woman I work with said, how about we get some chili because she likes chili on rainy days and I just rolled over and said, ok. I�ll have chili, too. WTF?! Who the fuck is running this show? Who the fuck is in charge of me, anyway? Don�t I have a say in what I do, or is this other person who just rolls with the flow in charge? I am beginning to think it is the other person. It would explain a lot. Perhaps I am schizophrenic, or something. It would be nice to blame someone else for all the shit I�ve ever done, and at the same time take the blame myself! Heh So, anyway, I had chili yesterday for lunch. It gave me heartburn all afternoon, it didn�t have enough cheese, no onions, and it tasted like it might have sugar in it. Sigh. 2:02 p.m. - 2004-09-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||