delve a little deeper....
Yay to England! I will have to come up with something pretty to post for the game on Sunday now, hmmm, any ideas?
I actually missed most of the game in the end due to slow service at restaurant and the pub we ended up in switching the screen near us to another channel (why?!) and then was on a train. Oh well, shall plan Sunday's movements a bit more carefully.
In unrelated plugging news a friend of mine who is very clever is involved with this-
If you're into audiobooks and have an iphone this will be the site for you. Go have a look and subscribe now! More info here in this Bookseller article. Am very proud of him and this is the result of a lot of hard work.
I had my hair cut yesterday. I hate going to the hairdressers. Most people seem to enjoy it and say how lovely it is to have someone wash their hair. Despite the intimate nature of my chosen career I actually don't particularly like having my head massaged by someone don't know. I hate the water trickling down your neck in those backwards sink things, I hate looking at myself in the mirror for extended periods of time and having my hair cut weirdly makes me want to fall asleep, which I know sounds like I'm relaxed but I'm not, I'm bored rigid and its annoying trying to keep awake, that or it makes me twitch and fidget like a small child at the cinema who needs a wee and has worms.
I have found the perfect hairdresser though. He is Polish and grumpy and doesn't speak to me. This is good, I also dislike the chatter some hairdressers do... "been anywhere on your holidays?"... type thing. He has learnt to interpret my 'Oh, just do something with it!' response to what I want doing with my hair. He has learnt not to try and persuade me to have layers which end up growing out messily or giving me a side parting as opposed to my natural straight down the middle one. So many hairdressers seem to think this is a good idea, but trust me my hair (like me) goes where the bloody hell it wants to and will not be coaxed down a path it doesn't want to take. Oh and he is quick too which is good.
I have yet to train him out of filling my hair with products which make me worry if someone lights a cigarette near me I will go up with a big bang!
Gosh, just read that back, it makes me sound really grumpy and unfriendly doesn't it? I'm very nice really. It's just hairdressers I am phobic about. I think it stems from having to have my beautiful long blond hair lopped off as a child (about 7 or 8 I think) when it became so fine, damaged and split as a child. It also went from blonde to brown in this period so I blamed the cruel hacking off of my locks on changing my hair colour too. Probably just a coincidence and I was always destined to get darker over the years. My poor mother was always mortified when we had to go to a hairdresser because I would tut, sigh and fidget all the way through as if the hairdresser was inflicting some great nuisance on me.
I then had a hairdresser who used to come to my parents's house. She was great tolerated my crazy hair style and colour whims as a teenager, was very good and very quick and I could wash my own hair for her arrival so didn't have to deal with the hair rubbing thing. I used to book her when I visited my parents years after I left home. When she retired (to live a life of luxury, not because she was elderly) I was gutted and had to find a proper hairdresser in London. As I was now in a proper grown up job I had a responsibility to look half decent and not get away with a stupidly long fringe and wonky ends where I had slashed away with a pair of scissors myself. Nothing good ever comes from cutting your own hair!
I'm not entirely sure how this ended up in a blog about my hair- be thankful I haven't told you the story about when I got nits at 17 or when I decided to go blonde (using a home dye kit) and went orange instead...
Right, I have sat still long enough (waiting for floors to dry after washing them) so shall tootle on with my chores.