These Pretzels Are Making Me Thirsty

You know how in fiction, eye and hair color, sometimes skin (usually only if it's not white, of course) seem to be go-to descriptors? Well, in the real world, they can't always be counted on to leave lasting impressions.

Yesterday, a coworker had a conversation with a guy who'd come in the previous day and spoken with someone. Coworker says to me, he says, "He said he talked to a woman with long black hair." I said, "Maybe A?" as she in fact, does have long black hair. Then I looked at the name of the person and I remembered he and his wife distinctly, because they were 1) crazy, 2) toothless and 3) smelled so terribly of cigarette smoke that after being stuck in a small room with them for fifteen minutes, I felt nauseated.

"Oh," I said, "I'm the one they spoke to, and no I did not tell them they'd have their benefits today; I told them someone would speak with them today."

Folks, this is my hair currently (still working out the kinks of the cut - it gets floofy in places I don't want it to, but this happens with a new stylist and a new cut sometimes):

( Cut, because who cares? )

Later yesterday, I asked if anyone would mind trading eyeballs, as mine were bothering me a lot and even though I liked the color of them well enough, I'd just as soon get rid of them. Coworker chimed in, "They are a pretty blue!"

My eyes are a common greenish hazel. So. Yeah. Long story short: in real life, eye and hair color aren't usually that big on people's lists as memorable; some do, of course, and it's gonna depend on the characters and relationships very heavily.

This is my hair when I wake up in the morning.



Frankly, I'm getting tired of trying to flat iron it into submission. I need to figure out how to tell my stylist that the layers she loves and can blow sleek and straight due to her ability to see all angles of my damned head is not something I can replicate at home, and that she needs to adjust appropriately. I'm not sure if she knows I air dry my hair. I thought I told her, but she likes to talk more than listen. I mean, I tell her every time the side layers are juuuust right and not to snip them, but she snips them so they won't stay tucked behind my adorable but unhelpful little ears.

Anyway, until then should I even bother trying to fight this mop? I get my hair cut next weekend, so maybe a week of not curly but not straight either hair will be okay?

Hmmm. Such problems I have. I do have a bona fide migraine, though. And a cat licking my hand as I type.

I also slept until ten this morning, and my dreams were filled with Scott Caan, fleeing from bad guys to remote cabins, forests, small town gas stations, and phones built into the pedestals of random statuary. So, yeah.

Working up a sweat with poo (henna) and a plastic bag on your head is a bad idea. Skip the elliptical until you're poo-free.

So, this weekend the discussion about donating hair came up. Several of my nieces and one of my sisters have already donated several times ... to Locks of Love. Now, I know it's been mentioned somewhere by someone that this is not the best organization to actually donate to, including providing information on better places. I think it was here on my flist, but I'm not entirely sure.

Does this sound familiar to anyone? Help? I'd love to steer them in the right direction, because I think it's awesome they want to do something good. I want their goodness to be worthwhile, y'know?

I survived the haircut. Six + inches of my hair did not!

*gulp*

I think I like it, but we'll see how it goes tomorrow when I have to style it. It's still pretty much blunt in the back, with layers framing my face. The stylist said it really accentuated my great jawline and cheekbones. I don't know about that, but I do know that I look SO different I keep getting startled by my reflection.

I'm fairly sure no one reads my LJ, but if anyone happens to, here's another song. I love the Great Lake Swimmers and Your Rocky Spine

There used to be a lovely sandwich shop on 5th, run by two women. Their sandwiches were truly delicious, but more delicious were their ginger chocolate chunk cookies. These things were the best I've ever tasted. So much so that I've long wanted to find a recipe even somewhat similar (a big deal because molasses makes me *shudder*). No luck on that front, but I did find one I thought I could modify. I figured cookies would be a nice treat to bring in to the office, for the random five people who'll probably show up this week.

Alas, problems started right away.

I discovered that I have no butter. I purposely went out yesterday to buy ingredients. I have brown sugar (not even IN the recipe) but no butter. *sigh* I substituted some sugar-free apple sauce and honey for the butter and it seemed okay. It was a bit sticky, so I added a wee bit more wheat flour than the recipe called for, and used ample cocoa powder, hoping the dry goods would make up for sticky butter-free cookies. Again, seemed to work.

With that issue tackled, I carried on making the dough. I survived the molasses gag reflex. Loaded on the cinnamon. I thought it all turned out pretty decent, but then as I was baking the first batch, I realized that I completely ommitted the baking soda and powder from the recipe. Have I mentioned that I tend not to read instructions well?

(Pretty sure I've said this, but even when just learning to read as a kid, I would often substitute words in place of those written. I have my own built-in paraphraser, I guess. My first grade teacher didn't appreciate that I kept pulling synonyms and I had mediocre grades as a result. I still do the word switcheroo, which could explain why I consistently read things differently than others. Anyway...)

The first batch of cookies was a total wash. *hangs head*

The second batch, with all of the ingredients, turned out much better. Might even be good enough for public consumption. I don't know how they taste compared to the scrumptions Alligator Pear cookies, but since I'll never have those again I hope they're tasty. What could be better than ginger and chocolate together?


Also, I've been all weekend without a shower. You really don't know what you've got till it's gone. I was having some caulk issues, and a fresh line was put down yesterday afternoon. I think technically I could shower right now, but I'm too lazy. The sponge bath and shampoo will have to do until tomorrow AM. What difference does it make if I'm in a bit of a funk, anyway? It's not bothering me at all. ;)

I really do want to chop my hair off. The problem I keep running into - where the heck to find a stylist I trust enough not to make it hideous and hard to care for. Most of the reason I wear it long right now is that I'm lazy, and since I walk a lot during business hours, I don't want something that'll look like arse if I get caught in the rain, you know? Hmmmm. There are two salons right on McGraw. They look pricey, but pricey might be what I need to do.

I had a dream last night my hair was secretly curly, straightened only by its length and weight.

Turns out I was right: I'm not good at trimming my own hair, despite the explicit directions lovellama pointed me to.

On the plus side, several people told me today that my hair was lovely (pre-cut). Apparently it does make a difference whether or not I curl the ends a bit. Too bad doing that during the week would involve me getting up 20 minutes earlier than usual. My hair takes forever to dry. Damp hair doesn't curl so well.

I should go finally get my hairs cut. I just hate paying good money to have the ends snipped off. Maybe I should have them do something more, I always think, but then remember how truly hair lazy I am. Put layers in, it requires work on my part. Short hair, also work. Ho hum.

My brain feels as though someone took to it with steel wool last night and I'm hungry but foodless.