Yes, I realize that I have written long, lilting posts on the wonderment (is that really a word) that is the pumpkin, and yes, this post will be slightly similar. However, this time, instead of talking about how wonderful pumpkins are, I actually have my own real, live pumpkin story to tell.
Since we have hit this beautiful time of year called fall (although the weather did not seem to get the "fall memo"), I have been entranced once again by all things pumpkin.
I pass by a Starbucks and think how wonderful a pumpkin latte might be even though I actually cannot stand the taste of coffee. I venture into Bed, Bath, and Beyond and stand for hours smelling the glorious pumpkin scented candles until the manager runs me out (yes, unfortunately that is true). You get the picture...I loobloo (russian word for love) pumpkins.
So, the other day on my facebook status, I mentioned that I would like to make some pumpkin ravioli, but I wasn't entirely certain how to cook a pumpkin (this was inspired by an insomnial night watching Iron Chef America on Fancast). I received a bevy of responses on how might be the best way to do this. One of the mothers from church left detailed instructions on the proper way to do just this, and after reading her instructions, I actually felt moderately capable of handling the task (yes, I know that is called being delusional, but we are in my world now). However, because of the busyness of my week and weekend, I didn't have a chance to try.
Then, yesterday morning at church, I am standing at my normal post (probably leaning against the wall, because on Sunday mornings, I seem to be short on energy and need the wall to keep me vertical), and up walks the dad and daughter from this family. You would not believe what the daughter was carrying.
Yes, it was a P.U.M.P.K.I.N. Oh. My. Goodness. Extreme giddiness overtook me, and I became the happiest person in the whole world (quite literally), because have I mentioned how much I love all things pumpkin?
So, I am now prepared with the proper information, a recipe, and the most beautiful looking pumpkin you have ever seen (seriously, people, if I had a camera at home, I would take a picture of it and frame it on my desk), and tonight for dinner, I will indeed be making pumpkin ravioli.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My Thumbs Are Faster than a Speeding Bullet
Yes, it is true. And no, I am not bragging. My thumbs really are faster than a speeding bullet.
Over the past few years as I have honed my texting skills, my thumbs have picked up quite a bit of speed and agility. I can reply back to a "Whatcha doin" with a multiple word answer faster than a Black Friday mad-dash to the electronics section.
Now granted, these fast thumbs of mine are now twice the size of my other fingers (in a strangely muscular way), but this skill really has served me well because I have been able to apply it to my Itouch. On days that I would rather not take my laptop home, I am still able to check my email, catch up with friends, and get a little work done from the comfort of my own home. Plus, the touch screen keys are set up in a very similar manner to my phone, and so I am able to do all of those things quickly.
Here's where the problem lies in all of that. Sometimes my thumbs move so quickly that an injury occurs (no, not a thumb injury because that would be just silly and a little embarrassing). Instead, I am talking about a face injury.
You see, last night I was lying in bed emailing one of my friends and my thumbs got to moving not just fast but super-duper fast, and the Itouch began to slip from my grasp. I should probably take this moment to explain that I was laying on my back holding the Itouch above my face. Are you seeing where this is going?
Yes, indeed, the Itouch slipped from my grasp and whacked me on the bridge of my nose. It. Hurt. It hurt so much my eyes teared up just a bit.
So, I felt it pertinent to take this moment to issue a word of caution to all of you out there who also have lightning-fast thumbs (and tend to lie in bed with a mobile or email device suspended above your face). Do not get careless with the power of your thumbs because you could be chatting with a friend one minute and having to nurse a black eye or busted lip the next.
Please, people, be respectful of the thumbs.
Over the past few years as I have honed my texting skills, my thumbs have picked up quite a bit of speed and agility. I can reply back to a "Whatcha doin" with a multiple word answer faster than a Black Friday mad-dash to the electronics section.
Now granted, these fast thumbs of mine are now twice the size of my other fingers (in a strangely muscular way), but this skill really has served me well because I have been able to apply it to my Itouch. On days that I would rather not take my laptop home, I am still able to check my email, catch up with friends, and get a little work done from the comfort of my own home. Plus, the touch screen keys are set up in a very similar manner to my phone, and so I am able to do all of those things quickly.
Here's where the problem lies in all of that. Sometimes my thumbs move so quickly that an injury occurs (no, not a thumb injury because that would be just silly and a little embarrassing). Instead, I am talking about a face injury.
You see, last night I was lying in bed emailing one of my friends and my thumbs got to moving not just fast but super-duper fast, and the Itouch began to slip from my grasp. I should probably take this moment to explain that I was laying on my back holding the Itouch above my face. Are you seeing where this is going?
Yes, indeed, the Itouch slipped from my grasp and whacked me on the bridge of my nose. It. Hurt. It hurt so much my eyes teared up just a bit.
So, I felt it pertinent to take this moment to issue a word of caution to all of you out there who also have lightning-fast thumbs (and tend to lie in bed with a mobile or email device suspended above your face). Do not get careless with the power of your thumbs because you could be chatting with a friend one minute and having to nurse a black eye or busted lip the next.
Please, people, be respectful of the thumbs.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Interesting Diatribe
So, earlier today, I read an interesting diatribe on the use of the colon right parentheses. You know what I am talking about--the :).
I am so not a big fan of emoticons (or fake emoticons) in general probably because I don't "read between the lines" very well. I expect that what you say is actually what you mean. If you tell me, "Great job on the speech you gave. :)" Then I read that as you really think I did a great job. If I know I really didn't do such a good job, then I also will think that you are not terribly bright for not recognizing that fact. Problem is (as the author of the above diatribe rightly states) that when one puts a ":)" within a text or email message, it means that text or email probably wasn't meant to be very nice to begin with.
With that being said, I have a friend who is emoticon-happy. She loves using emoticons. However, she is also a very kind person and does not typically utilize sarcasm as a major speech tool. So, when she emoticons in a text to me, I completely understand what she is saying, but with most, that is not the case (again, it goes back to that whole "reading between the lines" thing).
So, note to everyone out there, I will no longer recognize emoticons as a valid form of communication (unless, of course, you have been grandfathered in; I have that list available for those who need to see it). If you want to tell me that I am stupid, please simply type, "You are stupid." Resist the urge to include the ":)" or the ":(" or the ";)" because I simply won't understand what you mean, and I will spend the next hour reciting your message with the included smile, frown, or wink to dissect it's meaning.
People, I really don't have that kind of time. :)
I am so not a big fan of emoticons (or fake emoticons) in general probably because I don't "read between the lines" very well. I expect that what you say is actually what you mean. If you tell me, "Great job on the speech you gave. :)" Then I read that as you really think I did a great job. If I know I really didn't do such a good job, then I also will think that you are not terribly bright for not recognizing that fact. Problem is (as the author of the above diatribe rightly states) that when one puts a ":)" within a text or email message, it means that text or email probably wasn't meant to be very nice to begin with.
With that being said, I have a friend who is emoticon-happy. She loves using emoticons. However, she is also a very kind person and does not typically utilize sarcasm as a major speech tool. So, when she emoticons in a text to me, I completely understand what she is saying, but with most, that is not the case (again, it goes back to that whole "reading between the lines" thing).
So, note to everyone out there, I will no longer recognize emoticons as a valid form of communication (unless, of course, you have been grandfathered in; I have that list available for those who need to see it). If you want to tell me that I am stupid, please simply type, "You are stupid." Resist the urge to include the ":)" or the ":(" or the ";)" because I simply won't understand what you mean, and I will spend the next hour reciting your message with the included smile, frown, or wink to dissect it's meaning.
People, I really don't have that kind of time. :)
Monday, September 21, 2009
I Guess I Have to Admit It Was My Fault
So, I haven't blogged recently because I have been busy and a little under the weather, but also because I couldn't really think of anything to write...UNTIL THIS EVENING.
I ran to the store late this afternoon, and on my way home, I was talking on the phone. As I am driving down the road, I see a policeman passing me going the other direction. Now I must pause momentarily and assure you I was most definitely not speeding, not even a tiny little bit.
Needless to say, I was very much surprised when I saw the policeman whip around and turn on his lights. I signaled to turn on my street, and he followed me with lights still flashing.
Oh. My. Goodness.
I quickly hung up the phone and pulled over to the side of the road, and the policeman pulled up behind me.
I roll down the window to wait for the policeman, and I start digging through my glove compartment trying to find my insurance card (note to self, clean out the glove compartment because insurance cards form 2007 do you no good). When the policemen walks up to the car he tells me that my registration sticker is expired. To which I reply, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, I have my new one."
You see, when my new registration sticker came in the mail, I couldn't get the sticker off my windshield, so I put it in my purse to wait for the next time my dad came to visit so that he could change out my sticker.
Well, when I explained that to the policeman, he didn't seem to think that that was a reasonable explanation for why I was driving around with an expired registration sticker. I'm not really sure why, because it sounded reasonable to me.
So, I have to get my sticker changed out within 10 days, and I can get the ticket dismissed. I guess I have to admit that it really was my fault. (Note to self, invite parents for a visit about this time next year so my dad can change out my sticker.)
I ran to the store late this afternoon, and on my way home, I was talking on the phone. As I am driving down the road, I see a policeman passing me going the other direction. Now I must pause momentarily and assure you I was most definitely not speeding, not even a tiny little bit.
Needless to say, I was very much surprised when I saw the policeman whip around and turn on his lights. I signaled to turn on my street, and he followed me with lights still flashing.
Oh. My. Goodness.
I quickly hung up the phone and pulled over to the side of the road, and the policeman pulled up behind me.
I roll down the window to wait for the policeman, and I start digging through my glove compartment trying to find my insurance card (note to self, clean out the glove compartment because insurance cards form 2007 do you no good). When the policemen walks up to the car he tells me that my registration sticker is expired. To which I reply, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, I have my new one."
You see, when my new registration sticker came in the mail, I couldn't get the sticker off my windshield, so I put it in my purse to wait for the next time my dad came to visit so that he could change out my sticker.
Well, when I explained that to the policeman, he didn't seem to think that that was a reasonable explanation for why I was driving around with an expired registration sticker. I'm not really sure why, because it sounded reasonable to me.
So, I have to get my sticker changed out within 10 days, and I can get the ticket dismissed. I guess I have to admit that it really was my fault. (Note to self, invite parents for a visit about this time next year so my dad can change out my sticker.)
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I Should Have Listened More Closely
I set out pretty early this morning to head back to Houston from Dallas. My plan was to get back to Houston early enough that I could get a good bit of work done before church this evening.
Unfortunately, the atmosphere did not agree with my plan.
About 1 1/2 hours from Houston it started pouring...major P.O.U.R.I.N.G. I did all the proper car things of turning on my lights, turning both my front and back windshield wipers on, and slowing down. However, it was still really hard to see what was in front of me.
So, I resumed "old lady pose" (i.e. hands gripping the wheel, face as close to the glass as possible) to try to make driving a little easier. But it was still really hard to see. It was so dark outside, and the rain was coming down in sheets. It was then that I noticed my sunglasses...which were still on my face. Apparently, I had neglected to realize that I was still wearing my sunglasses. So, once I pulled them off, it was instantly lighter.
I then relaxed into the "not quite as old lady pose" and continued on my way.
Numerous big bolts of lightning flashed through the sky. They were a little too huge and bright for my comfort level (I thought about putting my sunglasses back on). I was a little worried that my car might be struck by lightning. I thought back to 8th grade Earth Science and tried to remember what my teacher said about lightning. Apparently, I didn't listen well in class, because I really had no idea what my teacher had said about where lightning would strike.
Needless to say, I readied myself to become a stunt driver and avoid any streaks of electrical current that might possibly make contact with my vehicle.
As one might expect, I got back to Houston without incident, but apparently our building was not so lucky, because I walked into an office area scattered with trashcans and missing ceiling tiles. The roof seems to have a leak or two or thirty in it. Currently, our nice copy machine is pulled out from the wall and covered with garbage bags.
Maybe this is the perfect excuse to make copies. I can get up under the garbage bags and no one will find me. Then I can take a nap snuggled up to the warmth of the Ikon.
Unfortunately, the atmosphere did not agree with my plan.
About 1 1/2 hours from Houston it started pouring...major P.O.U.R.I.N.G. I did all the proper car things of turning on my lights, turning both my front and back windshield wipers on, and slowing down. However, it was still really hard to see what was in front of me.
So, I resumed "old lady pose" (i.e. hands gripping the wheel, face as close to the glass as possible) to try to make driving a little easier. But it was still really hard to see. It was so dark outside, and the rain was coming down in sheets. It was then that I noticed my sunglasses...which were still on my face. Apparently, I had neglected to realize that I was still wearing my sunglasses. So, once I pulled them off, it was instantly lighter.
I then relaxed into the "not quite as old lady pose" and continued on my way.
Numerous big bolts of lightning flashed through the sky. They were a little too huge and bright for my comfort level (I thought about putting my sunglasses back on). I was a little worried that my car might be struck by lightning. I thought back to 8th grade Earth Science and tried to remember what my teacher said about lightning. Apparently, I didn't listen well in class, because I really had no idea what my teacher had said about where lightning would strike.
Needless to say, I readied myself to become a stunt driver and avoid any streaks of electrical current that might possibly make contact with my vehicle.
As one might expect, I got back to Houston without incident, but apparently our building was not so lucky, because I walked into an office area scattered with trashcans and missing ceiling tiles. The roof seems to have a leak or two or thirty in it. Currently, our nice copy machine is pulled out from the wall and covered with garbage bags.
Maybe this is the perfect excuse to make copies. I can get up under the garbage bags and no one will find me. Then I can take a nap snuggled up to the warmth of the Ikon.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Hanging with the 'Rents
So, I am "living up" my little mini-vacation, and by "living up" I mean staying with the family and hanging out with my Dallas peeps. Because vacations are always more exciting than regular, everyday life, I thought I would share a little of what I have done so far.
1. Visited a lemonade stand for charity. It was a group of middle school girls from my old church that were trying to raise money for the Bethany Girls Home in India. They raised almost $400 with their lemonade stand yesterday afternoon.
2. I have checked and rechecked my niece's vocabulary and reading homework. Can I just say, "Ugh!" This wasn't just quick checking of homework, this was "I had to read the required reading passages to be able to see if the answers on her homework were correct." Again, I say, "Ugh!"
3. We did a family dinner last night at Carino's. Food was yummy, but the service was slow, so we had plenty of time to visit and discover an overabundance of the use of air quotes in our general family conversation. We must reign those air quotes in.
4. Tonight I get to head out with some friends just to hang. This evening's acitivites will probably include dinner at Potbelly's which has the world's BEST peanut butter and jelly sandwich (and yes, I do regularly go to restaurants and order PBJ sandwiches).
5. In the meantime, I am needing to kill a little bit of time today before I head out, so I have pulled out the laptop located the first few seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on hulu and have been watching it all morning. I would like to maintain that that is perfectly acceptable vacation behavior, and that I should not be embarrassed in the least by that. In fact, if I had a few extra days of vacation, I might also locate the first few seasons of Dawson's Creek and remember the days of teen agnst along with the vampire slaying.
Oh well...I head back to Houston tomorrow. So, I am going to embrace my vacation behavior just a little bit longer before I have to go back to the real world.
1. Visited a lemonade stand for charity. It was a group of middle school girls from my old church that were trying to raise money for the Bethany Girls Home in India. They raised almost $400 with their lemonade stand yesterday afternoon.
2. I have checked and rechecked my niece's vocabulary and reading homework. Can I just say, "Ugh!" This wasn't just quick checking of homework, this was "I had to read the required reading passages to be able to see if the answers on her homework were correct." Again, I say, "Ugh!"
3. We did a family dinner last night at Carino's. Food was yummy, but the service was slow, so we had plenty of time to visit and discover an overabundance of the use of air quotes in our general family conversation. We must reign those air quotes in.
4. Tonight I get to head out with some friends just to hang. This evening's acitivites will probably include dinner at Potbelly's which has the world's BEST peanut butter and jelly sandwich (and yes, I do regularly go to restaurants and order PBJ sandwiches).
5. In the meantime, I am needing to kill a little bit of time today before I head out, so I have pulled out the laptop located the first few seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on hulu and have been watching it all morning. I would like to maintain that that is perfectly acceptable vacation behavior, and that I should not be embarrassed in the least by that. In fact, if I had a few extra days of vacation, I might also locate the first few seasons of Dawson's Creek and remember the days of teen agnst along with the vampire slaying.
Oh well...I head back to Houston tomorrow. So, I am going to embrace my vacation behavior just a little bit longer before I have to go back to the real world.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Googling Thoughts
I have been up since about 5:30 this morning.
Yes, I know it is a holiday. My mind is fully aware of that, but my body seems to have neglected that piece of information. So, sleeping in was not really an option this morning.
To help pass the time while the rest of the house was asleep, I played around on my computer. One of my favorite things to do when I am bored is to just google random questions/thoughts/interests/etc online to see what I can learn about those topics. So, here is a smattering (that's my new favorite word) of what I googled.
**I have grand visions of riding a bike to and from work each day. I don't live that far from my work, and so it seems like a viable option. So, in my "bordeom googling" I mapquested exactly how far it was from my house to my work, and I also looked at various bikes (the Madsen bucket bike is my favorite, but my pocketbook will not open and let me purchase one). However, I should probably mention that I broke my arm one summer in college riding my bike from campus to my apartment when I crashed and tried not to land on my already broken other arm.
**The idea of canning fascinates me. I have even checked a few books out of the library on canning just so I can learn more about it. The sites I read this morning suggested starting with vegetables because of the high acid content. I wonder if I could dedicate a day to making my own soap, canning my own vegetables, and making some homemade bread? Then I could sit on the side of the road and sell my goods like a traveling merchant.
**Squeaking brakes...right now the brakes are squeaking on my car. I asked my dad if he could just oil them, but apparently if you oil the brakes then not only do they not squeak, but they also do not stop your car. So, I have been reading about house easy (in theory) it is to replace your own brakes. All you need is a few simple tools. Do you think a Swiss Army Knife, a flower-painted hammer, and cordless screwdriver count as the necessary "few simple tools"? I'll let you know.
**At a movie the other night, I saw a little "fun fact" thing that said Ashley Tisdale (HSM 1, 2, & 3) was the cousin of Ron Popeil. The Ron Popeil. Did you know that not only can you still purchase his Food Dehydrator and his Rotissrie, but the GLH (hair in a can) Formula 9 System that he invented is still available.
Yes, I know it is a holiday. My mind is fully aware of that, but my body seems to have neglected that piece of information. So, sleeping in was not really an option this morning.
To help pass the time while the rest of the house was asleep, I played around on my computer. One of my favorite things to do when I am bored is to just google random questions/thoughts/interests/etc online to see what I can learn about those topics. So, here is a smattering (that's my new favorite word) of what I googled.
**I have grand visions of riding a bike to and from work each day. I don't live that far from my work, and so it seems like a viable option. So, in my "bordeom googling" I mapquested exactly how far it was from my house to my work, and I also looked at various bikes (the Madsen bucket bike is my favorite, but my pocketbook will not open and let me purchase one). However, I should probably mention that I broke my arm one summer in college riding my bike from campus to my apartment when I crashed and tried not to land on my already broken other arm.
**The idea of canning fascinates me. I have even checked a few books out of the library on canning just so I can learn more about it. The sites I read this morning suggested starting with vegetables because of the high acid content. I wonder if I could dedicate a day to making my own soap, canning my own vegetables, and making some homemade bread? Then I could sit on the side of the road and sell my goods like a traveling merchant.
**Squeaking brakes...right now the brakes are squeaking on my car. I asked my dad if he could just oil them, but apparently if you oil the brakes then not only do they not squeak, but they also do not stop your car. So, I have been reading about house easy (in theory) it is to replace your own brakes. All you need is a few simple tools. Do you think a Swiss Army Knife, a flower-painted hammer, and cordless screwdriver count as the necessary "few simple tools"? I'll let you know.
**At a movie the other night, I saw a little "fun fact" thing that said Ashley Tisdale (HSM 1, 2, & 3) was the cousin of Ron Popeil. The Ron Popeil. Did you know that not only can you still purchase his Food Dehydrator and his Rotissrie, but the GLH (hair in a can) Formula 9 System that he invented is still available.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Hmm..No Luck
I have been sitting in front of my computer screen trying to come up with something to blog about. Nothing...absolutely no thought long enough to create a full-fledge post has come to mind. So, I will resort to mini-postlets to fill this space so that I can move onto more pressing matters such as playing on facebook.
Postlet #1...
I made the 4-hour trek from Houston to Dallas today for a short little vacation. I most definitely DO NOT like car trips. Actually, let me rephrase that. I do not like car trips where I have to drive. If given the opportunity to sleep a little, visit a little, and eat a little while in the proximity of car, then I very much enjoy car trips. Add a "car trip mix tape" on top of that, and that car trip is GOLDEN.
Postlet #2...
Shortly after I got to my parents, my mother needed me to go to the airport to pick up my dad. As my niece and I pulled up to the "Passenger Arrival" area, we searched for my dad. Out walks this man in an utterly obnoxious orange Hawaiin shirt. It was my dad. No, he had not just returned from Hawaii. In fact, he was flying in from Lubbock. Not really sure why he owns or wears that shirt, but it created a large amount of giggling in the car.
Postlet #3...
How many times is it possible to drop a cell phone before it breaks??? Over the past day and a half, I have dropped my phone no less than 128 times. For the moment, it still works, but if I cease to return your calls, you will know that in my attempt to repair the phone, I had to cover the face with copious amounts of duct tape. (Isn't everything better with duct tape?)
Postlet #4...
I have a confession to make. I do not know how to hook up my DVD player. I have a TV, and I have a DVD player, and I have a bunch of wires. However, I have yet to figure out how to actually put all of those together in a way that enables the viewing of videos on the television set. It may be the least of my problems pretty soon, though, because currently I have to hit my TV with a significant amount of force to get a picture to stay on the screen.
Postlet #1...
I made the 4-hour trek from Houston to Dallas today for a short little vacation. I most definitely DO NOT like car trips. Actually, let me rephrase that. I do not like car trips where I have to drive. If given the opportunity to sleep a little, visit a little, and eat a little while in the proximity of car, then I very much enjoy car trips. Add a "car trip mix tape" on top of that, and that car trip is GOLDEN.
Postlet #2...
Shortly after I got to my parents, my mother needed me to go to the airport to pick up my dad. As my niece and I pulled up to the "Passenger Arrival" area, we searched for my dad. Out walks this man in an utterly obnoxious orange Hawaiin shirt. It was my dad. No, he had not just returned from Hawaii. In fact, he was flying in from Lubbock. Not really sure why he owns or wears that shirt, but it created a large amount of giggling in the car.
Postlet #3...
How many times is it possible to drop a cell phone before it breaks??? Over the past day and a half, I have dropped my phone no less than 128 times. For the moment, it still works, but if I cease to return your calls, you will know that in my attempt to repair the phone, I had to cover the face with copious amounts of duct tape. (Isn't everything better with duct tape?)
Postlet #4...
I have a confession to make. I do not know how to hook up my DVD player. I have a TV, and I have a DVD player, and I have a bunch of wires. However, I have yet to figure out how to actually put all of those together in a way that enables the viewing of videos on the television set. It may be the least of my problems pretty soon, though, because currently I have to hit my TV with a significant amount of force to get a picture to stay on the screen.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Miss Texas Pageant, Here I Come
So, I came into the office pretty early this morning to get a headstart on my work. I also did it so that I could hopefully steal away late this afternoon for a haircut.
Middle of the morning, I called my normal salon and asked to schedule an appointment. "Way Too Cool Girl" heaved an eye-rolling sigh when I told her that I indeed wanted to schedule an appointment for TODAY. Yes, I know, "Way Too Cool Salon" is incredibly busy, but I had all my fingers crossed in the hopes that they could fit me in.
"Way Too Cool Girl" finally got back on the line to tell me that my normal hair person (who is incredibly nice and normal and only moderately cool) was unavailable, but that she could place me with someone else. I said that would be fine, hung up, and went about my work.
As I sat on the couches in the salon this afternoon waiting to be called, I wondered a bit nervously who would be cutting my hair. As most of you know, I am hair-vain. It is not something that I am proud of, but I have come to terms with it and accepted it as one of my faults.
Once my hair had been shampooed, I was led to a chair. When I saw who would be cutting my hair, I was a little concerned. It was an oldish gentleman (think pageant-guy from Miss Congeniality), but I told him very carefully what I wanted. While he cut, I kept a deer-in-the-headlights watch over his scissors. As he finished the cut, though, I thought to myself that he did a good job, and so I closed my eyes to relax.
That is where I made my mistake. Oh. My. Goodness.
He whipped out the largest round brush he owned and proceeded to tease my hair into beauty queen oblivion. By the time the blow dryer stopped, it was puffy...P-U-F-F-Y puffy. He even commented on how nice and puffy it was.
Don't get me wrong, I know we're in Texas, but I don't really think I come across as a puffy-hair girl.
Anyway, I told him "thank you", paid, and dashed to my car. Once I got in my car, I drove the Walgreens down the street and purchased. I have now been brushing my hair for the last hour trying to diminish the oh-so-puffy-quality. It has gone down a good 3-inches, but there is still a bit of height. Perhaps I should have also purchased a bump-it to create some volume on the top of my head to balance out the sides.
Oh well.
For those who will see me this evening, please be nice to me and my hair.
For those who will not, you can catch a glimpse of me at the Miss Texas Pageant because my hair has now achieved pageant status.
Middle of the morning, I called my normal salon and asked to schedule an appointment. "Way Too Cool Girl" heaved an eye-rolling sigh when I told her that I indeed wanted to schedule an appointment for TODAY. Yes, I know, "Way Too Cool Salon" is incredibly busy, but I had all my fingers crossed in the hopes that they could fit me in.
"Way Too Cool Girl" finally got back on the line to tell me that my normal hair person (who is incredibly nice and normal and only moderately cool) was unavailable, but that she could place me with someone else. I said that would be fine, hung up, and went about my work.
As I sat on the couches in the salon this afternoon waiting to be called, I wondered a bit nervously who would be cutting my hair. As most of you know, I am hair-vain. It is not something that I am proud of, but I have come to terms with it and accepted it as one of my faults.
Once my hair had been shampooed, I was led to a chair. When I saw who would be cutting my hair, I was a little concerned. It was an oldish gentleman (think pageant-guy from Miss Congeniality), but I told him very carefully what I wanted. While he cut, I kept a deer-in-the-headlights watch over his scissors. As he finished the cut, though, I thought to myself that he did a good job, and so I closed my eyes to relax.
That is where I made my mistake. Oh. My. Goodness.
He whipped out the largest round brush he owned and proceeded to tease my hair into beauty queen oblivion. By the time the blow dryer stopped, it was puffy...P-U-F-F-Y puffy. He even commented on how nice and puffy it was.
Don't get me wrong, I know we're in Texas, but I don't really think I come across as a puffy-hair girl.
Anyway, I told him "thank you", paid, and dashed to my car. Once I got in my car, I drove the Walgreens down the street and purchased. I have now been brushing my hair for the last hour trying to diminish the oh-so-puffy-quality. It has gone down a good 3-inches, but there is still a bit of height. Perhaps I should have also purchased a bump-it to create some volume on the top of my head to balance out the sides.
Oh well.
For those who will see me this evening, please be nice to me and my hair.
For those who will not, you can catch a glimpse of me at the Miss Texas Pageant because my hair has now achieved pageant status.
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