To be perfectly dull I’ve decided to write a short, virtually pointless post about my day.

I got up early to go with M to get my haircut. My hair was getting much too long and something had to be done. I had no idea what it was I wanted though, because (to be rather blunt [as I am a little too well known for among my closest friends and family]) my hair simply wasn’t sexy. Don’t get me wrong, it looked great. It was long and lushes and my curls have been the cause of girls’ jealousy for years. But it just wasn’t the kind of hair you’d like to look at when given it to someone good. So, I went to Seattle to have some random person I’ve never met make a life changing decision for me on what to do with my hair. Long story short he chopped a good deal of it off, and rather terribly, if I do say so. He left my bangs long and cut everything else shorter than it’s been in nigh a decade. He said it was only the first step in a series of haircuts to get my hair the way he really wants it. He wants to have my bangs down past my chin and the rest short and tight. It was one of the gayest cuts I’ve ever heard of, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let it happen, but there you go. And the way he combed it out gave me a bit of a triceratops effect, with a large flat area on the top of my head and the back of my head poofed up and around like some giant crown. All I needed was my evening gown and I’m sure I would’ve looked a real queen swishing down the streets of Seattle.

After running around for several hours, paying for my classes this fall and the books required for them, as well as going out to lunch with M and L (he’s our Jack from Will and Grace) I made it home and jumped in the shower. I then spent a good hour playing with my hair to get it the way I liked. I absolutely hated it during that time. It took me 20 minutes of combing and fidgeting to get it looking similar to how it did before I got it cut. I don’t actually mind it now that I’ve done it this way. That said, I texted M the entire time I was doing my hair to complain to her about the mess she’d gotten me into.

My mom came home several hours later and noticed the smell of hair product before she noticed my hair. And when we went out with my aunt and uncle for dinner, no one even noticed. Either no one cares about me at all in this family, or I’m a master with a hairbrush. I think both are a little true.

And now that I’ve spent faaaarr too long on this absolutely ridiculous subject, I really have nothing else to talk about. Isn’t that completely horrible? I need something exciting in my life, for sure. Cause this crap ain’t cuttin’ it. I ended up watching a couple of discs of Will and Grace to make myself feel better, since my Grace and I were a little off today. We were just snippy with each other all day, and completely called each other out on our lives several times, but not in our normal funny way. It was rather odd. This was probably our first fight ever actually. That said, this was such a mundane thing I’m bound to forget it, and so I’m sure I’ve forgotten anything similar that’s happened before this.

Have I rambled on long enough yet? Oh no, I’ve still got about 400 words left before I’ve reached my usual length. How… uninspiring. *sigh* You know, it’s really terrible you all don’t know me in person. I’m much funnier in person. Blogging just removes all the funny and makes me pensive, and when I have nothing to be pensive about I ramble about insipid subjects that make you want to grab a bottle of tequila and a few prozac just to wake yourself up again.

Oh and for the people who take me seriously: You really shouldn’t. 90% of the jokes I make are only half serious. I am not a druggy or a drunk at all, I just think joking about it is hilarious. Karen Walker is my favorite character on Will and Grace after all.

Alright, I’m only at about 800 words but I’m bored with myself and really have no hope for any of you to make it all the way through this dribble. And lord knows I never write an essay to full length. It’s either miles too long or several inches too short (and yes, I do talk about writing an essay in inches, because it’s wonderfully similar to the way they write essays in Harry Potter, and well, we all need a little magic in our lives where we can find it, right?)

Ta ta for now!

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