The one with the Alanis song

I did laundry earlier today with music on earphones and an acoustic version of an Alanis Morissette song came on. I remember listening to the regular cranky version of the song on bad days, many years ago. I used to sing the cranky versions with girl friends, with exaggerated emotion as one might with angry girl music. But like I said, that was ages ago. Oh the naiveté of youth—when you think you HAVE problems, when you think you know pain. After you have lived through real problems, and you hear a song with some meaning bursting through from between the lines, you grin inwardly and think, now is the time for such a song. And you have the right stash of emotion to back it up. And one need not have followed everything that Alanis recommended.#

The one with the bad haircut

The only thing I go to salons for is to have my hair cut. I don't have my nails done, I don't get hair treatments (I think these two so far are pretty obvious), and I especially don't let other people do my makeup—not even for my wedding.

And so it makes me very very upset (#hulksmash) when I finally decide to let go a little—after about a year of cutting my own hair—and the professional i was counting on still gives me freshly harvested rice fields when I specifically asked for a very particular (i.e., Carey Mulligan) pixie cut.

I had used all possible aids—pictures, descriptions, a wig—to help my case, but somehow did not get through. I still walk out of the salon looking as if someone was holding a clipper behind me when a firecracker went off.#