Of bad haircuts and blood tests
12.09.08, 6:22 pm
Just got back from a disastrous encounter with the hairdresser. A hairdresser�s primary function in life is to cause unease and misery amongst the general population through physical appearance mutilation. Now, I do not have an adventurous hairstyle. I go three times a year to have a couple of inches hacked off each time, and the shock of the resulting shortness is usually enough to make me unhappy for a week. This time, however, I am doubly sad because on top of the shortness factor the stupid woman has cut it WRONG. My feathered bits at the front are DIFFERENT LENGTHS; indeed, one side is so short that I can�t even tuck it behind my ear. This is what happens when you spend too much time concentrating on making inane chit-chat about the last holiday you had, and not enough time watching what she�s doing with the bloody razor on a stick thing.
I think I�ve managed to mend it, just. Initially I dallied in front of the mirror with a pair of blunt nail scissors, wondering whether to just have a go at evening out the sides myself. In the end I went against this, for fear of creating the mother of all balls-ups, and instead tried moving my parting to the other side. It appears to have worked, thank frickin� Christ. Just have to get used to a left-hand side parting, but it�s a small price to pay for not having a wonky head. I mean, honestly. Isn�t the first rule of hairdressing �Do not make your client look like she has had a tragic accident with a lawnmower�?
In other news, the new people at work came in on Thursday for a meet-and-greet, as they�re starting properly on Monday. Both seem nice enough � bloke is very quiet and serious, and, I suspect, not a great deal of fun. The girl shows more promise. Rob and I spent most of Thursday afternoon texting each other from our respective labs (only thirty feet apart, my laziness knows no bounds) about how the bloke appears to not be a fittie, as originally hoped.
Oh dear, pretentiousness alert, I�ve written my first actual song! It�s either quite good or completely wank, and I honestly have no idea which is correct. Had a guitar lesson on Thursday night and played it to my teacher, after much �it�s really shitty� prefixing, and it wasn�t quite as cripplingly embarrassing as I thought it�d be, so I dunno. Maybe not bad for a first attempt. My teacher mentioned something about live performance, which just scared the bejeezus out of me. I am not good in front of an audience, unless completely pissed.
Was not at work today, so spent the morning in town shopping (with imaginary money), and then sitting in a coffee shop drinking tea and eating pecan pie with a book. It was amazing. Less amazingly, had to go to the doctors first thing and have my 900th blood test, to test my kidney function AGAIN, just in case I�ve developed kidney failure in the last three months, and consequently couldn�t cope with the dye they�re going to inject into me for my CT scan. More than a little nervous about the scan, so I�m dragging Katie along to the Northern General with me, as nothing is better for nerves than to have someone to witter inanely on to.
Boy is home soon. It�s another horrible Grand Prix this weekend, by a cruel twist of fate. Consequently I shall be evacuating the building at lunchtime and going to have a roast dinner with Rob at B&Bs. The rest of the weekend is completely empty, sadly. Undoubtedly I shall spend most of it in front of the mirror, trying to magic my hair back to normal.
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