Wednesday, December 12, 2001
bloop, back at work. apparently taking my lunch a little early so i could get out to the project site, you know, fed and all wasn't a good idea. i got a stern phonecall on my cell from the scheduling lady asking where i was, lol, because one of my other coworkers was about to leave to the jobsite, and she was supposed to leave me. never mind the fact that she was leaving giving herself enough time for about an hour and a half worth of lunch, i was the one holding things up. sheesh. it was just kind of funny. anyways, i'm back at work. i am dreading this afternoon. it is raining, and i will be herding children through the forest. if it wasn't raining and damn cold, i wouldn't be whining quite so much. ok, actually i would be, i would just be whining about different things. life is to short to spend most of your time working. i should be at home sitting on my ass doing nothing right now, because obviously i don't do that enough. that is what i should be wasting my time with.
i was reading my friend jings blog about getting haircuts. it seems like he gets along pretty well with his stylist or whatever. i have this fear of getting my haircut. i have been very afraid to do it since i was a little kid. something about smelly fat women in alaska pressing their breasts against me when i was 5 years old, wielding big scissors next to my head. i can't figure out where this fear came from. i go to supercuts when i actually do get my haircut. they usually have one cute haircutter person in there when i go (i wouldn't call the people at supercuts "stylists"). i never get that stylist. it is better actually, because i dread talking to hairstylists. its like at the dentist. just get your hack job over, and let me go. when i do get the cute stylist, it is kind of nice, because i don't mind breasts pressing against me, and it gives me something to look at in the mirror besides whatever god awful thing they are doing to my head at the time. it is just kind of awkward. i hate being there, but i want to talk to her. but my hatred of getting my hair cut wins out, so i sit their silently. my hair never turns out how i want it. i describe exactly what i want, and they promptly forget it. so they do whatever they hell they want, except they screw it up, so i end up with some sort of gimp hair that is shorter than i wanted it because they were trying to fix it. they also can't figure out my sideburns. my face is slightly tilted. one of my eyes is slightly higher than the other, like one of my ears. so if they match up my sideburns, they always look off, so they always work their way up, cutting a little bit from each side until i have no sideburns. i have learned to say "just take them off" to solve all the confusion.
actually, i am kind of enjoying having my hair longer. i wish it could stay right at the length it was at the halloween party. i could make it kind of stand up every which way, which looked kind of cool instead of just wierd like it does now. i think i am going to just keep it growing, making my white boy fro larger and larger as the months wear on. i don't really care, i have no one who really cares what my hair looks like, so fuck it, you know? :)
all good in the bloggityhood...
i was reading my friend jings blog about getting haircuts. it seems like he gets along pretty well with his stylist or whatever. i have this fear of getting my haircut. i have been very afraid to do it since i was a little kid. something about smelly fat women in alaska pressing their breasts against me when i was 5 years old, wielding big scissors next to my head. i can't figure out where this fear came from. i go to supercuts when i actually do get my haircut. they usually have one cute haircutter person in there when i go (i wouldn't call the people at supercuts "stylists"). i never get that stylist. it is better actually, because i dread talking to hairstylists. its like at the dentist. just get your hack job over, and let me go. when i do get the cute stylist, it is kind of nice, because i don't mind breasts pressing against me, and it gives me something to look at in the mirror besides whatever god awful thing they are doing to my head at the time. it is just kind of awkward. i hate being there, but i want to talk to her. but my hatred of getting my hair cut wins out, so i sit their silently. my hair never turns out how i want it. i describe exactly what i want, and they promptly forget it. so they do whatever they hell they want, except they screw it up, so i end up with some sort of gimp hair that is shorter than i wanted it because they were trying to fix it. they also can't figure out my sideburns. my face is slightly tilted. one of my eyes is slightly higher than the other, like one of my ears. so if they match up my sideburns, they always look off, so they always work their way up, cutting a little bit from each side until i have no sideburns. i have learned to say "just take them off" to solve all the confusion.
actually, i am kind of enjoying having my hair longer. i wish it could stay right at the length it was at the halloween party. i could make it kind of stand up every which way, which looked kind of cool instead of just wierd like it does now. i think i am going to just keep it growing, making my white boy fro larger and larger as the months wear on. i don't really care, i have no one who really cares what my hair looks like, so fuck it, you know? :)
all good in the bloggityhood...
