Gee, your hair smells like nail polish!

Yesterday I briefly mentioned my sensational new haircut. Don't you love it when you find a stylist that consistently makes you look fabulous? It's the BEST.

And there we were, my stylist Kelly and me, chatting away while she put the finishing touch on my hair with what she calls the "Edward Scissorhands Treatment", where she puts little bitty razors on her fingers and runs them through my hair to texturize it. Does your hair have texture? Oh, you've GOT to have texture. You don't know what you're missing.

Then she stopped suddenly and said, "AW, DAMMIT!!!!"

Just in case you've never experienced this yourself, it's a bit unsettling to hear the person whose current raison d'etre is making you gorgeous swear in frustration. Take my word for it.

What precluded this outburst, you ask?

She had accidentally sliced the tip of her pointer finger - fingernail and all - down to the nail bed.

Let me reiterate this slowly, for maximum effect and to keep me from wretching.

SHE
CUT
HER
FINGERNAIL
OFF...

ON
MY
HEAD.



I didn't have my glasses on, I didn't see it happen, I didn't see her pluck a fingernail out of my hair or off of the floor, and I didn't ask any questions. I really didn't want to know if she bled in my hair or not. It happened really quick, so I don't think so, and my best guess is that it was cut but still attached.

Have we ever discussed how easily I am grossed out??? I mean seriously, it's up there with pube fries. I'm still shuddering at the thought of it. If my hair didn't look so awesome, I'd never go there again.

My hair looks amazing. It's the best haircut I've had in years. I even woke up the next morning and it looked amazing, straight out of bed.

I think I'm destined to have icky flashbacks for a while, but here's the thing - my hair looks incredible. Stunning. I love it. What's a girl to do?

I mean, on the one hand, UUUUUUHHNNN!!!! , obviously, but on the other hand, the possiblity of having a gruesome flashback every time I sit in her chair seems a small price to pay for hair that looks this good. And the woman did put herself in harm's way, risking painful and extremely icky injury, all for the sake of my beauty. Bonus points for devotion!

Y'know what would have been funny, though? If I had said, "Keep the tip!" when I paid her afterwards. (Since she'd just cut off the tip of her finger... yeah. I came up with that just now.)


Also on my mind today is the fact that I have to register Pie for Kindergarten soon. A few weeks ago I was bringing the boys home from preschool and Pie asked me why they don't go to school every day. I said, well, Pie, next year you WILL go every day.

Tito, of course, asked if he would go every day too. No, I told him, next year you'll go Monday, Wednesday and Friday, just like now. And on Tuesdays and Thursdays we'll have Mommy-Tito Day, just like we did last year, when Pie went to school and you stayed home.

Side note: If there's one thing I've learned from having the boys, it's that you can't tell one of them that they get to do something cool without telling the other one that what they get to do, no matter what it is, is equally cool. For example, if one of them gets invited to a Chuck E Cheese birthday party, I have to make "You get to go to the grocery store and the library with me!! WOO HOO!!" sound almost as good. Anyway...

Pie started to cry.

What's the matter, Pie?

I've never had a Mommy Day.

Talk about a knife in the heart.

So my plan for next fall is that I'll take Tito to his school MWF 9-noon, and then I'll keep Pie home for Mommy-Pie Mornings. Then after we pick Tito up, we'll head over to Pie's school and drop him off for PM Kindergarten, and he'll come home on the bus with Beebie so Tito and I can have Mommy-Tito Afternoons.

Hopefully they won't figure out the slight inequity in the one-on-one time totals, as Pie will really only have 3 mornings a week with just me, and Tito will really have 5 afternoons a week. Pie's pretty smart, though. He'll probably figure it out and years from now he'll be on a therapist's couch explaining how he always felt that I loved Tito more, as evidenced by the amount of time I spent with each of them back when he was in Kindergarten. I can just see it.

For the entire school year, I will never be alone. But I figured, it was my last chance to spend this time with them before they're all in school, and in the long run I will be glad I sacrificed what little personal freedom I have to spend the time with them individually.


And get this - today at about 2:30, my doorbell rang while I was waxing my eyebrows and by the time I got myself presentable, I walked to the front door and saw the Maintenance Man's trademark blue truck with a big ladder in the bed, backing out of my driveway. That's weird, I thought. I didn't call about anything, and I KNOW they're not the "proactive" sort. And then it came to me.

Maintenance Man was dropping by, unannounced, to cut down the branch I called about. TEN DAYS AGO. They'd never even returned my call, so I gave up. I ended up calling the electric company instead and they took care of it in about 10 hours. I also emailed the landlords saying that the problem had been taken care of. I hate them.

I haven't even mentioned my knitting class! I actually really liked it and I got over the "buy your own yarn" part. Choosing the yarn was kinda part of the process. I get it. But I wound up buying something close to something I already had. Whatever, it's fine. I'll take a picture of my WIP when it gets to the point where I'm proud to show it. Don't hold your breath.