Clearly my life is sucking a bit at the moment as I’m actually writing another blog where I am mentioning hair. But I’m doing it as a public service announcement to all women who curl their hair.
So, take this as a warning. Don’t ever, ever, ever buy that hair curling thing that sucks your hair up into an automatic curl chamber and is supposed to magically produce a perfect curl. My hairdresser told me about it and so of course, I immediately go out and spend $100 bucks to buy one. I was so excited and had visions of beautiful curly hair (not my usual sucky, humidity laden curly hair).
Anyway, the first couple of curls at the front of my head – perfect. Then, to my horror, the curling thing sucked up my hair and wouldn’t release it. I had the presence of mind to unplug it, but couldn’t get my hair to uncurl from the chamber! After three minutes of complete panic, I got it untangled, mostly because I basically ripped it out and tore half of the hair out. I am completely traumatized about this. I nearly wrecked my hair using this stupid thing. I realize that I’m not the most coordinated person in the world, and put the mishap down to that, however, nothing like this has ever happened to me with a regular curling iron or hot rollers. This curling iron requires a level of manual dexterity that I obviously don’t possess.
I immediately returned it, and I’d like to thank Sally’s for bring super nice about the return, and not even asking me why I was returning it. That is what I call good customer service.
Moving on.. I had a party on Friday night for one of my clients. Best office party yet! For a small group that I didn’t think drank that much, they wiped out a case of wine and a huge amount of beer and rum. I found a napkin in the morning solving an algebraic equation of some sort – they are such nerds. The night ended with four of us, at 2:00 am playing a game of incoherent scrabble (which I won due to my creativity and skills in defending non-words to drunk men):
The man situation is now non-existent. I have tossed the married man. He was getting way, way too attached to me and making trips to see me from Toronto. I could see that this was going to end badly, and I like the guy enough that I put a stop to the whole thing before the shit hit the fan (for him, not me). Not to mention that his sex skills could really be improved – Mata Hari has already told me that I should consider that a deal breaker, and KMS pointed out a few weeks back (and rightly so) that I wasn’t having a lot of sex with him because I couldn’t be bothered to have mediocre sex. They both know me so well : )
I really need to get some excitement into my life as I’m actually boring the shit out of myself writing about mundane crap like hair, scrabble and dull breakups. Imagine what it must be like to be me and living this – I can only hope this is just a temporary dry spell deemed necessary for me to rest up for bigger and better things, hopefully sooner rather than later.