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Why I'm not a vegetarian On the train to Eastbourne, pointing a field to MFC "doesn't that little veal look cute?". Pass the osso bucco dear. |
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1.8.07 13:29 |
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Trust me i'm a hairdresser After one of those "i've had enough of my hair" moments I stepped into the salon at lunchtime (as you do, without an appointment of course, and it is well known that a salon that you can just walk in and find empty at lunchtime is going to give you a quality haircut, yes really I *am* really *that* stoopid sometimes). Then there was all the trying to explain what I wanted and gesturing in front of the mirror. See, that bit needs to be neat and i want all these kinky bits cut off and absolutely no layers. Hairdresser #1 walks to the back of the shop "can you take this one, it's too difficult". Hairdresser #2 comes out. Repeat of the explanation and gesturing capped with "I just don't want all the bits that stick out any more, just level it off and maybe if i keep all the weight of it it may just stay down easier". Hairdresser: #2 It's wavy, you just need to blow dry it. Me: I know, I did, and ran it through the straighteners and used straightening balm, this morning. Hairdresser #2: oh I see. Much ooh-ing and aah-ing. So you want me to turn your graduated bob into a straight bob. Inner me: alleluia the hair is sprayed damp and the cutting start, and so does the light chat which she fails to see is making me cringe in the chair. I don't do hairdresser chat. She has taken off a couple of inches from the front of the bob when she tries a new tactic to engage me in the conversation. Haidresser #2: I love your perfume, it's Gucci isn't it? me: no it isn't inner me: do I tell her I am not actually wearing any perfume today so she is either smelling the imaginary friend she is having the one sided conversation with or the lovely hand cream from work or my washing powder or do i just fib and give her the name of something I'd actually wear if I was wearing perfume? Hairdresser: are you sure, I just know it is, I love that smell, it's Gucci. inner me: do I look like I'd wear Gucci? Come on lady give me some credit. me: It's Issey Miyake Haidresser 2: your fringe is very heavy you need to take some of the weight off Inner me: oh no I don't, the weight of it is the only thing that stops it from turning into some wild kink fest. me: I'd rather you didn't. If you lighten it it *will* kink. hairdresser #2: I do it differently, you'll see, it won't kink. Me: I like the weight of it hairdresser #2: it's too heavy, it will look better she holds the fringe and chops at it in a movement of the scissors that resembles every previous attempt at lightening the fringe I have ever encountered before. I cannot see how her way is different, but it's too late, the chopped off wisps of hair have already flown past my eyes. hairdresser #2: see, no kink As the dampness of the fringe dries of, it starts to kink as predicted. I sigh. She then starts playing with my hair, moving the parting to the other side, then getting rid of the parting altogether and spreading the fringe out on my forehead making me look like a shaggy dog. inner me: stop pawing me you crazy woman, leave my hair alone. hairdresser: it's very important to play with your hair you know, so you can find out what suits you. I put the parting back the way i would normally choose to wear it and sweep the fringe back to the side, out of my eyes. Get up, walk to the counter, pay. Since nobody at work has said anything, I am uncertain if it has made no noticeable change to the way I look or if it's just so awful they feel they shouldn't comment. To test the theory, I have died it red tonight. We'll see if that gets noticed.
Update: nobody noticed the change of colour either.
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15.8.07 20:36 |
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why I'm not a vegetarian (despite loving vegetables, nuts and pulses) - part 2 extract of conversation with the lovely Christine: "... and the people at the table behind us saw me eying up their plate of pig's ear and let me have a nibble. They are soooo nice, like pork scratchings only better" "I love pork scratchings, how do you improve on them?" "well it's salty and piggy and crunchy, gooey and chewy all at the same time. Salty AND piggy, perfect food."
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16.8.07 19:12 |
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And what about Barcelona? her: You have not even blogged about Barcelona yet me: Well I was going to, and then I couldn't find the card reader to process the pictures, and then when I eventually got to look at them they weren't all that and now it's been a fortnight it doesn't seem worth talking about it really. her: I think you should anyway, it doesn't matter if it didn't happen yesterday, and it will be fun reading what went wrong. me: what makes you think anything went wrong? her: *you* arranged it didn't you? Contrary to popular belief (see above), not every thing I organise goes completely wrong. I used to book people's business travel for a living after all and non of the techies I sent to the other side of the world to fix poorly networks ever complained about the arrangements (it could have been because they were a bit scared of me mind you). So this time nothing went badly wrong... flights /and/ room were booked for the duration. No trecking around looking for somewhere to sleep for the night like the time I took MFC away for a bank holiday in North Wales . However, I did forget to check the small print on the diary I used to book the week-end away and found out afterwards that 6th August is NOT a bank holiday in England, only in Scotland and in Ireland . Minor detail. I also failed to notice that the outbound and inbound flights did not use the same London airport (Heathrow outbound and Gatwick inbound) so the plan to park the car outside Him Indoors' place and tubing the rest didn't quite work out and it meant there wasn't really much in the way of options for getting home from Gatwick at the time we landed (I am however still amazed the minicab at Clapham Junction was actually licensed ). Still, no disasters. |
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20.8.07 23:26 |
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Get rich quick scheme This week I'm going to demand £1 from every person who says "I told you so". Yeah, yeah yeah you were right. With the money, I'll pay for the sollicitor you all advised me to get.
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21.8.07 09:59 |
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Fish and 'toons I'm all for there only be 1 ticket left for the 7pm session when I need 2 if it means I get to have dinner at Hazuki with MFC instead AND still see cartoons at the 9pm show . Special bonus points for the chap a couple of tables away for providing entertainment and a reminder of why working for the service industry is never likely to become a thriving career option for me. Bless his cotton socks, he didn't look familiar with Japanese food, I wouldn't normally mock, but he was trying to pretend that he was which made him rather fun to watch. Note to professional 40+ men, pretending you know when you don't doesn't make you look clever, it makes you look overeager to impress and insecure. As he placed his order he requested the plain rice was replaced with fried rice. The waitress remained sweet and professional, she did not laugh. I on the other hand might have snorted, a little bit. OK there was no might about it, i mocked heartily and i feel he deserved it for leaving the most beautiful plate of tuna sashimi untouched for nearly 15 minutes. As for the cartoons , plenty of good stuff and I only didn't "get" a couple of them. My personal favourite "No room for Gerold", can't trust wildebeest. Quote of the night "Estonians are closely related to Finns, it's all you need to know"
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22.8.07 14:30 |
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Typical After a week wet enough that I considered putting the heating on for a bit just so I wouldn't have to dry myself with a damp towel it's supposed to be lovely and sunny this week-end only I won't be here to enjoy it. We are off to France to collect The Boy. With a bit of luck it will be sunny there too. Quote of the day: by colleague who will be enjoying the promised London Bank Holiday sunshine by going to the Carnival - "... and if I get stabbed I'll just go home". |
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24.8.07 22:56 |
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