May 11, 2006

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times

I think I’m a bad person. The guy who has been doing my hair for the past four years told me that he is moving far, far away. They are moving there because his wife’s family is there and they’ve always wanted to live there. My first thought was, "MY GOD! What am I going to DO?" My second thought was, "How can I sabotage their plans to move?" He is a damn good stylist. I LOVE the way he does my hair. I started imagining myself picketing on his front lawn as prospective buyers drive by. "This house has rats," my sign could say, or "Termite infestation: Don’t be fooled!"

I seriously asked him if he’d come back up to visit and cut my hair. He said I could come down and visit and he’d cut my hair there. It is a LONG drive away. I don’t think I can justify a 10 hour drive to get my hair cut to my husband. $100 for a cut and highlights is already pushing it. I seriously think I am going to have a good cry over this when he actually goes. He said that as long as appointments are scheduled, he’ll honor those appointments. I think I’m going to ask if I can schedule through 2010.

The reason why I’m so upset is because I highly prefer going to male stylists, and there aren’t that many of them around. My reasoning is this: why would a woman want another attractive woman in the world? It’s competition for them. Men like to see beautiful women, whether they are married or not. Male stylists literally want to make the world a more beautiful place. There is a serious shortage of male stylists in this area; and I am afriad to subject my head of hair to someone I don’t know. I honestly feel like someone just dumped me. I know it’s silly, but I REALLY like the way he cuts and highlights my hair. Let me reiterate. . . I really, really like the way he does my hair. And don’t even get me started on how well he does my eyebrows. . .

I know most of you probably think this is stupid, but ladies, you’ll understand why. When this man cuts my hair, no curling irons are necessary. The cut dries so nicely and lays so nicely that it cuts my hair primping time by about 90%. It’s incredible and I know of not another person who can accomplish such a feat. He must have sold his soul to have such skills.

The other reason it’s a bad day? (I swore to myself I would NOT discuss American Idol on this blog, but with what happened this week, how can I NOT?) Who are the crazy lunatics out there who didn’t give Chris Daughtry enough votes to make it through? I am seriously in shock. I had picked him as the winner from the very beginning; and I am floored that he is done. Of course, I watched American Idol on Tivo and got occupied with other things and forgot to vote. It’s probably all my fault. I feel terrible about it. What’s the point of even watching the rest of the season? I’m done.

Another reason it’s a bad day? (Oh, you thought I was going to get to the good thing, didn’t you? Not yet. I like to get my complaining out of the way first.) If you’ve ever been to a funeral, you know how it emotionally drains you for days. It feels exhausting just to think or even deal with life after such an emotional ordeal. I honestly had that feeling after Kindergarten orientation. It is only now starting to diminish from the beginning of the week. It has been slowed in it’s regression by the fact that Big I asks me every single night if she has to go to school tomorrow. I told her tonight that I will give her some warning. I won’t just wake her up one day and make her go. I told her she’ll probably love it once she’s there. Tonight she said to me, "I’ll go to school Mommy, but maybe just one or two days a week, o.k.? o.k.? o.k.?" I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I’ll cry considering the week I’ve been having.

Talking about enough to make you want to cry. My lovely sister sent not one, but two, "I’m not a chain letter" chain letters: one to me and one to Big I. It’s this flip-flop one. The very same flip-flop one that when asked if I’d like to participate by a good friend, I told her I’d rather not. I always get screwed by these not-a-chain-letter chain letters. I sent out a book and was supposed to get like 30 back. I didn’t see one. I won’t even bring up the other crazy requests I got in the mail. I’ll only say that Victoria’s Secret is probably behind at least one of them. People have flip-flop fever apparently, but I don’t even like wearing them that much. My husband told me I should close the loop, so to speak, and send out the not-a-chain-letter chain letter back to my sister and the other girl listed on the letter, six letters for each. I mean seriously, what do people need 36 pairs of flip-flops for anyway? Actually, the whole letter is bogus because even if everyone fulfills their flip-flop obligation, you can only receive a maximum of 6 pairs. And, how are Big I and I supposed to come up with 12 people to send these letters out to? 12 people who won’t hate us for it? Talk about a Mission Impossible.

So, onto the good things before the flood gates open up and wash me away. At karate, I feel I’m making great progress on my kata. I feel like it’s really coming together and I’m getting the rhythm of it down. I am feeling like I have my karate flow back again and that is a good thing. After my summer vacation, I’m going to up the number of times I go each week, which should make a huge difference. I wanted to do this before, but with Lil C it’s been too hard. I’m looking forward to learning by leaps and bounds. And onto the last good thing. . .

I’ve been awarded a Mix-Pix award.

This lovely lady reviewed my site and wrote up a little something about me and my blog; and I am just thrilled. You’ll notice the little Eeyore on my side bar and I am quite proud of it. So, in honor of this award and my horrible week, I’d like to invite any lurkers to come forward, show yourselves, leave a comment and say "hello," or something. I know you’re out there. I see my visitor stats. I see my little map on the side bar so I know where you’re coming from, but who the heck are you? Won’t you come out and say hello? (And be nice, I’m feeling fragile this week.)