I’m all I wanna be.
Super duper vanity post. But, as my life has slowed down to a normal pace, I have nothing on my hooks, sewing machine or in the oven. I’ve been reading, ok? Stephen King. I get lost in books sometimes. Oh, trust me, there is a To Do List. I have another baby blanket, paid in full. I have the fringe on that infamous poncho. Oh, I did send my baby fishies home with my mother in law. Not sure if they made more or not. I would wager that, as Giorgio Tsoukalos would say “The answer is YES!” They are quite the breeders.
Anyway, back to me being vain and what not…I got my hair cut…
always with the stink face…
I just…needed a hair cut, man. I am totally not kidding. The last time I got a hair cut, it was one of those cheap and quick ones. The girl did do a good job, but my hair is just, not anyone’s friend. I got a really awful cut like a year ago (hint, WAY TOO MANY LAYERS!!) and my hair just hasn’t been manageable since. I’ve been putting band aids on it, but seriously, this person cut a layer that is, now at least a year later, only three inches long. So…that means it was like an inch long. I’m not kidding. It was soooooo bad. And there were a LOT of layers. So it was constantly getting tangled. Ugh! So I went to a real salon. God help me, the woman was like “whoa, who in the actual cut your hair like that?” I just, had no comment. I asked her to take off as many of the layers as possible. So that’s where we are. Ugh, I’m not super pleased. I mean, yes, it’s not constantly tangled, but man, it’s short for me. She couldn’t get that stupid 3″ layer, so I’m going back in 6 weeks, maybe we can get it out then. So stupid. Don’t let children cut your hair. This is what I get since my hair cutting friend left me for Chicago. She cut my hair perfect. All I had to do was buy her dinner. Oh and, one final note: “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T PUT ANYTHING IN MY HAIR DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HAIR, THANK YOU.” I was bleach blonde for a bit back in the day. I know how hair works. I think I annoyed her with my whole no poo thing. She talked to me like I was born in the back of a greasy spoon. But oh well, as long as she gets the damn layers out and I can go back to growing my hair.
Ok, so good stuff! I’m down 13#! Whoot whoot! And my muscles are coming back! I was so depressed after my knee problem (ahem, NO THANKS OBAMACARE.) I just stopped going to the gym and lost my lady guns. I look, like, 1000000xs more like myself.
just, don’t ask about my #selfies. long story, inside joke. involved teasing one of my friends who brained herself with a wine bottle.
This is right when I gained a bunch of weight:
I’m pretty happy about that! I knew as soon as I got running again, things would get better. At the time, I was just like FORGET THIS. You can’t run 20 miles a week and then just stop and expect nothing to happen. Onward and downward? I’ve got about another 20# to lose and I’ll be back to my old self again. Anyway, I’m going to go read my book. Tomorrow, crochet. Ta ta!