After close examination in the grim light of day, I've concluded that my hair was cut with toenail clippers.
I would have been better off telling a barber to trim the sides with a No. 4 blade.
I could pretend that I'm just coming off of chemo. Or maybe I should just tell my friends that I have mange.
Good thing I'm not vain.
05 August, 2009
A Year of Bad Haircuts
I have suffered a tragedy.
A couple months ago, my haircutter disappeared. He either quit or was fired, or perhaps he fell through a hole in the space/time continuum. He's gone.
Not that his haircuts were always perfect. But they were at least always good.
So I've been asking my friends for referrals - and so far I've had two disasters. The first was perpetuated by a guy (straight) who reeked of testosterone. He had long, curly hair held in place by a wide headband - at first I thought it was a wig. But no, it was just left over from 1974. He cut hair like a 1950s barber. It was an awful,boring haircut.
But today's cut was even deeper. I look like I've been eaten by moths.
This person (a woman) and I talked about what I wanted, and then she picked up "texturising shears", or perhaps dog clippers, and had at my head. After the savaging she applied "product" to the remains so that bits would stick up. Maybe she should have sprayed RoundUp instead.
It's only hair. It will grow back. Right?
A couple months ago, my haircutter disappeared. He either quit or was fired, or perhaps he fell through a hole in the space/time continuum. He's gone.
Not that his haircuts were always perfect. But they were at least always good.
So I've been asking my friends for referrals - and so far I've had two disasters. The first was perpetuated by a guy (straight) who reeked of testosterone. He had long, curly hair held in place by a wide headband - at first I thought it was a wig. But no, it was just left over from 1974. He cut hair like a 1950s barber. It was an awful,boring haircut.
But today's cut was even deeper. I look like I've been eaten by moths.
This person (a woman) and I talked about what I wanted, and then she picked up "texturising shears", or perhaps dog clippers, and had at my head. After the savaging she applied "product" to the remains so that bits would stick up. Maybe she should have sprayed RoundUp instead.
It's only hair. It will grow back. Right?
02 May, 2008
Naming Names
There's an article on SF Gate about the names people give their pets. The author seems surprised that so many folks give their dogs "people" names. No big deal, really. My first dog was Sally, and that was a long, long time ago. There was mention in the article of a cat named Drums Along the Mohawk, which is pretty spectacular. Do you think the owners called him by his full name when they were trying to get him in the house at night?
We have a lot of animals and most of them have people names (only the red hens are named Henny Penny and Chicken Little). And the dogs, who are after all members of our family, have carefully chosen names. The Border Terriers are Dirty Harry, his son Gillie, and his daughter Siuna. And the old Labrador is Myfanwy. She used to be Fanny, but when we moved to Australia it became apparent that that name was not going to be called for our neighbors to hear. We used to have a mastiff named Willie, so we were fully equipped. A Fanny and a Willie.
We have a lot of animals and most of them have people names (only the red hens are named Henny Penny and Chicken Little). And the dogs, who are after all members of our family, have carefully chosen names. The Border Terriers are Dirty Harry, his son Gillie, and his daughter Siuna. And the old Labrador is Myfanwy. She used to be Fanny, but when we moved to Australia it became apparent that that name was not going to be called for our neighbors to hear. We used to have a mastiff named Willie, so we were fully equipped. A Fanny and a Willie.
23 March, 2008
Cows and Hens
You may have noticed the photo of two hairy cows. We (my charming husband and I) have somehow built a herd of a dozen Highland cows. I just wanted a Jersey to milk. He said no. Not just no, but definitely no. He'd end up getting up early to milk the cow, I wouldn't be able to find enough uses for the milk. Etc. Ad nauseum.
Unfortunately, he's right.
But he liked the ideas of cows. And since he has a faux Scots background, we ended up with Ceitagh (Katy), Suisdaigh (Susie), Ailenna (Fuzzy Lumpkin), Burger (now living in the deep freeze). Then Rib Roy and Chuck arrived, and last year we had Ceanagh (Kenna), Briannagh (Brianna), and Duncan. Three more were born this year - Eoinn (Owen), Fergus, and Grace. That's a lot of cowshit.
They do look good in the pasture. But they're smart, and they know where the ends of their horns are. So do I - and sometimes they're poking into me.
We also have hens. 25 hens manage to lay an average of 10 eggs a day and totally trash the garden. The black ones are named Florence, the brown ones either Chicken Little or Henny Penny. There's also Beanie, who is a little black hen with a rose comb and gold topknot. And Farrah, the feral brown one who's comb has never grown.
We have alpacas, too. But that's another story.
Unfortunately, he's right.
But he liked the ideas of cows. And since he has a faux Scots background, we ended up with Ceitagh (Katy), Suisdaigh (Susie), Ailenna (Fuzzy Lumpkin), Burger (now living in the deep freeze). Then Rib Roy and Chuck arrived, and last year we had Ceanagh (Kenna), Briannagh (Brianna), and Duncan. Three more were born this year - Eoinn (Owen), Fergus, and Grace. That's a lot of cowshit.
They do look good in the pasture. But they're smart, and they know where the ends of their horns are. So do I - and sometimes they're poking into me.
We also have hens. 25 hens manage to lay an average of 10 eggs a day and totally trash the garden. The black ones are named Florence, the brown ones either Chicken Little or Henny Penny. There's also Beanie, who is a little black hen with a rose comb and gold topknot. And Farrah, the feral brown one who's comb has never grown.
We have alpacas, too. But that's another story.
My mama done tol' me
My sister has reminded me that our mother often admonished me to keep my trap shut. Actually, she would say, "If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all," or words to that effect. Of course, sometimes she would just tell me to shut up because I didn't know what I was talking about.
My mother also told me that kids are like pancakes - you should always throw the first one out. Guess where I was in the birth order.
I have spent my entire life ignoring what my mother told me. Why should I change now?
The weather here has been lovely, sometimes a bit warm. Very globalwarmingish. I suppose there are benefits.
Such as, now that the ice is melting in Antarctica, greedy nations are staking claims so they can DRILL FOR OIL. I should be dead by the time they start.
Do I sound like I have my cranky pants on? I do, and I've gained so much weight that the zipper is stuck.
My mother also told me that kids are like pancakes - you should always throw the first one out. Guess where I was in the birth order.
I have spent my entire life ignoring what my mother told me. Why should I change now?
The weather here has been lovely, sometimes a bit warm. Very globalwarmingish. I suppose there are benefits.
Such as, now that the ice is melting in Antarctica, greedy nations are staking claims so they can DRILL FOR OIL. I should be dead by the time they start.
Do I sound like I have my cranky pants on? I do, and I've gained so much weight that the zipper is stuck.
04 March, 2008
Missing in Tasmania
Living in Tasmania is pretty fantastic. But there a few things missing:
Mexican food (this doesn't seem to exist anywhere in Australia - there are restaurants that claim to have Mexican food, but they're on a par with Taco Bell or Chevy's. Blech. Corn tortillas have WHEAT in them here.)
Real barbecue (Australians think they can barbecue. Hah! A gas griddle with sausages on it is not a barbecue. There's a reason sausages are called "snags" here. It's not a nice reason. And I bet no one here ever deep fries a turkey.)
Baseball (imagine a baseball-esque game going for days. With tea breaks. With guys in baggy clothes swinging a wide-ass bat at a little ball. Forever. That's cricket.Give me a hot dog, a beer, and a game that won't last more than 4 or 5 hours...)
On the other hand, we have Australian Rules football, with guys in short shorts and tight shirts - no padding, either. And rugby, with gigantic men shoving each other.
So I can't complain. Too much. Too often.
Mexican food (this doesn't seem to exist anywhere in Australia - there are restaurants that claim to have Mexican food, but they're on a par with Taco Bell or Chevy's. Blech. Corn tortillas have WHEAT in them here.)
Real barbecue (Australians think they can barbecue. Hah! A gas griddle with sausages on it is not a barbecue. There's a reason sausages are called "snags" here. It's not a nice reason. And I bet no one here ever deep fries a turkey.)
Baseball (imagine a baseball-esque game going for days. With tea breaks. With guys in baggy clothes swinging a wide-ass bat at a little ball. Forever. That's cricket.Give me a hot dog, a beer, and a game that won't last more than 4 or 5 hours...)
On the other hand, we have Australian Rules football, with guys in short shorts and tight shirts - no padding, either. And rugby, with gigantic men shoving each other.
So I can't complain. Too much. Too often.
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