I finally went and got my hair cut. It had to happen, I know. For too long I'd let it grow feral, wild and unruly, plus it was all weird from when I was sick over Xmas (makes sense, cause Dr K says if you're real sick you get a band in your fingernails, which I had, so I guess I'd have a band in my hair, too).
Of course it took three times the time and price I was estimated, but that was to be expected and accepted, as it really was a reconstruction job. They also cut off three times more than I wanted. I used to have hair down past my bum, not it's just down to my shoulders. It looks great, but, well it's an adjustment. I miss it when I go to plait it and I ain't got nothing to plait. Plaiting was soothing. Sigh. still, had to be done. I stood there, cause they made me stand to do it, and watched my hair fall on the ground and took it like a man.
I also managed to get some new shoes and a fancy shirt. Yay. I shall be somewhat presentable. And my new walkiing home regime got kick started yesterday when the bloody bus driver shot past my stop and the next one is in the next suburb (cause it was the express). So I had to trundle all the shopping back for kms, steeply uphill. Pretty view though, once I got to the top, could see for 50kms east, nice day for a walk. Bloody good thing I took the wheelie though :)
Grumble. No one has noticed the new hair or the new shirt. Still, I'm never the sort of person that attracts comments, at least, never positive ones. One day at uni I swore no one would notice if I shaved my hair off and dyed it blonde. No one did, though I think it finished off my grandmother. Oh well. I've never really cut it since, until yesterday. and it's all gone curly again, damn. I used to have dead straight hair so I ate and ate all my crusts, which, back in the 70s, would have been full of lurid toxins not to mention obesity making carbs. So now I got the curly hair when I want dead straight - arrrgh.
And just when I thought I might have news to tell you, my cousin just had a son, which of courses totally obliterates anything I might have had to say in terms of importance, as it should. At least my cousins are taking care of my breeding quota.
Hmph. Lost over 60hours in unpaid overtime last month. So if you were waiting for me to do something for you: tough. I obviously don't get any time to myself. Not even to sleep. It's those 16 hour days. I'm now doing the work of eight people. Twelve, if you add in my domestic duties. None of them are me, either. I get no time for myself.
So, anyways, watched Oz, forgot to tape Wild Wild West (weep), watched X Files (sorta), watched Foyle's War (which was one of the grittiest portrayals of the suffering caused by the Battle of Britain I've seen yet, no wonder it scarred entire generations) and watched Grosse Pointe. Bro also played They're a Weird Mob while I was working, which was cute. The past really is another country. Much like that episode of Skippy that was filmed at Hornsby and OMG but it totally doesn't look like that now, but 40 years ago it was a sweet little country town. I love Skippy. I love it when Skippy cracks safes or delivers pages of exposition :) Hey, childhood nostalgia goggles, remember? I also deeply love the fact that little Sonny grew up to become a kangaroo meat exporter. too fekking perfect. :p
Which Homeric hero are you? Achilles. You're a good person to have around on the rare occasions you're ready to do some work, but you have volatility issues. Your willingness to enlist the help of your mum won't win you any friends, either
Take the quiz: "Which Random Irish Gaelic Phrase Are You? "
Pog mo thoin
Pog mo thoin - 'Kiss my ass.'You're one tough bastard, and if anyone doesn't like it, they can kiss your ass. You enjoy fighting and causing grievous bodily harm. Hey! What are you lookin' at, punk?