I have naturally wavy hair, and for years I’ve been torturing myself with the big-round-brush-blow-out routine which is really impossible to manage when you’re a low-maintenance kind of a gal. Looks great when I walk out of the salon and then it’s in a ponytail for the next six weeks until I go back.
Yesterday I was flipping through magazines and noticed the trend toward wavy hair. Not curly or overly done, just soft and feminine and easy to manage. My hairdresser agreed that it would be perfect for me and so all she really did was cut out some layers and “bob” it a bit, then showed me how to use product and blowdry/curl/style. It’s TOTALLY something I can manage and I think I’ll actually feel like I have a “hairstyle” that I can wear every day, even when all I’m doing is sitting here at my desk. I had to invest in a better hair dryer with the diffuser attachment, a curling iron, jaw clips and a fortune in product - but I am pleased as punch. A total change but nothing drastic was done, yay me!
I don’t have time to get a decent shot, must get back to work, but this is the gist of it. Brilliant, if I do say so myself! (My mother said, “Why’d you do THAT?”, so maybe it’s just me LOL.)
There’s a cashier at the store I frequent that tends to get a little nosy sometimes. It’s usually harmless, like asking if I have a cold if I buy cough drops or something; occasionally it’s amusing:
Her: “Are you on a diet or something?”
Me: “No, why?”
Her: “You’re buying all of these health foods!”
And by health foods, she means fruits and vegetables, which are abnormal things for a human to eat in case you didn’t know.
This morning’s exchange went like this:
Her: “Chicken is on sale!”
Me: *looks around to see if she’s talking to me*
Her: “Six bucks! A whole chicken!” *goes on about the chicken and the great deal on the chicken*
Me: “Thanks, but I’m a vegetarian.”
I could have skipped the details, but why go to the trouble of being a vegetarian if you can’t be a self-congratulating, pretentious asshole sometimes?
Her face scrunched up and her eyes went wide—it was either horror, concern for my wellbeing, or she was pissing herself with embarrassment as if she’d just offered me a kitten on a stick or something. She lowered her tone and with earnestness she said, “Oh ..... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay!”
Her: “So .....”
And this is the part where any veggie, upon revealing their vegetarianness, knows that one of two responses is coming.
Behind door number one is the diatribe about how that person could neeeeeeeever give up meat, they love meat, meat meat meat, they’re a carnivore, they couldn’t live without it, oh I just love my meat, meatitty meat meat meat!!!!!!!! They run around in circles a few times and pretend to snatch a turkey leg from out of the sky and mime their best carnivorous tear-and-chew of the air-turkey flesh.
But this morning, she chose door number two: Confusion.
Her: “… what do you eat?!”
Me: “*laughs* Well, pretty much everything except meat. So, no chicken for me!”
Now she’s gazing into space, really thinking about it you know? Bless her heart. I think she thought I had a medical condition or something, that this not-eating-meat affliction was something out of my control and she needed to understand.
Her: “… no chicken, no beef, no NOTHING?! Fish? NOTHING?!”
I could have told her the legend of the food that does not have meat in it, but I don’t think she would have believed me. So I said, “Yup!” and I clicked my heels and turned to leave her there to ponder my miracle.
