rue-madame's Diaryland
Diary
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Another snoring hair entry
I just read a thing in the New York Times about how people are not opening their financial statements when they arrive in the mail anymore. Denial much? If it weren�t for Terence nagging me about my filing, I would just stick the envelopes on my desk and forget about them. Instead, I now open the statements, look them over, get depressed for a spell, then hand them over to Terence for filing--I figure since he�s such a filing nazi, he may as well do it for me. He doesn�t really mind except that he hates my filing SYSTEM. Oh well. Sometimes when you are a busy professional woman, you have to feign interest in your assistant�s complaints... I took the bull by the horns and looked at all of my bank balances. This is the sort of shock therapy I routinely engage in a few days before rent is due. If I�m not freaking out about something, there is something wrong with the world. Today�s crisis involves writing a check from one account to deposit into another for the rent and bills, creating a money altar and doing a few chants to conjure my refund check from the IRS, scraping together the funds to get a haircut, and devising a list of Things To Sell On EBAY. The good news is that I don�t owe as much as my friend Ned, whose credit debt is in excess of 24k. Jesus H., that�s a lot of corn. I did end up getting a haircut this afternoon. I couldn�t take it anymore, and that Hawaii wedding that occurs next week set the panic wheels in motion. My hair has been an unruly mess since the beginning of June! I couldn�t come up with any photographic inspiration for hair styles, so I just went to the salon and asked for the usual--which is some kind of layered thing. This is what you get when you have curly hair. Layers. But the neat-o, new thing is that I asked Jason my lovely stylist to blow my hair out, and he actually obliged. Most hair stylists that I�ve dealt with have refused to straighten my hair. They never want to �ruin� the curl; they claim to be looking out for me, but really, they just have curly hair envy. Anyway, I came home a changed woman. Terence didn�t even recognize me, and took my photo to memorialize the occasion. Later, I had coffee with Ned, and he was like, �What�s up, race car?� That, I have to admit, was very different from the usual �Wassup?� and I definitely felt different just walking down the street. However, my hair behaved very oddly in the breeze--all little strands of hair getting stuck in my lipstick Of course tomorrow, sans hair dryer, sans round brush, my hair will revert to its normal curly state, and that�s ok. Sorry for the boring hair entry. I�m kinda boring right now. Must be the red wine.
8:15 p.m. - 2002-07-30
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