Wow! I'm all over the place today!

Well, my earlier post was all about the wearin' o' the green. I thought that it wasn't really the best idea to try to incorporate my usual random thoughts with such loveliness; my brain would ruin the moment, ya know? So here I am posting again. Hubby asked me last night while we chatted over the phone about our respective days, "Did you do any work today?" Well, I did, but granted...it was minimal. I really wasn't crazy busy like I usually am, though I did get quite a bit accomplished work-wise. Working aside, I also got a few other things accomplished, too. I spent my lunch break sitting in a nail salon having my nails done and I spent about an hour after work sitting in a hair salon having my hair done! Wow! Pamper JMS Day! Ok - so the nail salon left much to be desired, but something funny did happen. The tiny woman with short spiky hair that was roughly throwing my hands around grabbed my right pinkie finger and exclaimed (you'll have to imagine the accent), "Oooh...you haf crookit pinkie!" "Yes, I have two crooked pinkies!" I said, holding up both fingers for her to examine. She holds up her left hand and says, "I haf no pinkie!" Sure enough, she's missing the pinkie on her left hand. I wonder if I should have taken that as a warning not to have my nails done there? Well, she certainly was efficient, but even I, inexperienced as I am in the art of having acrylic tips put on, knew that she wasn't quite...um...doing it right. (For want of a better way to say it.) The acrylic looked kinda thin to me. Just an hour or so after having them done, two of my nails had chips on the sides, right down by the quick! And I hadn't even done anything to them that would have caused them to chip! I'm going to go back today on my lunch break and make her fix them - at no charge! See if I'm not! (Ha!) Then after work, I went to a local hair salon to have all the split ends removed from my tresses. They were baaaddd and I was sick of my hair breaking off at the slightest touch. My stylist's name was (not joking...and not changing names to protect the innocent) Velvet Sue. (Ok...I'll leave her last name out.) She was 40-something with a mass of blonde hair that came to the middle of her back and funky eyeglasses with a beaded eyeglass chain (you know the things that hold your glasses around your neck?). She was adequate. I mean, don't get me wrong, she was VERY nice, and I enjoyed talking to her immensely, but she took forever to wash, trim, blow dry and "style" (I use that term loosely) my hair. She kept asking me if she was being too rough on my head; was my head/scalp sensitive. I spent many minutes trying to convince her that no, I was not "tender-headed" (as she put it). Until she got to the flat iron, I had no problem with her hurting me at all. The flat iron, though, was another story all-together. I think it was coated in hot rubber because it pulled the hair from my head like an Epilady pulls hair from your legs! OUCHY! But since I'd invested so much time and energy reassuring her that she could not hurt me, I now couldn't say anything! I mean, I guess I could have said something, but I didn't. Suffice it to say that I will probably not see her again. Nice lady, not too bad with the shampoo part (I love me a good scalp massage) but otherwise, not my favorite. I have yet to find a stylist that I really like. I've always liked them personally, but hair-wise, I've never been thrilled. I am very picky and hard to please when it comes to my hair because A) If I have to do anything other than wash, condition, blow dry and (maybe) flat iron it, I won't do it - I hate hair products and B) I don't ever like the way my hair looks, newly cut or old and frayed. Someone should just konk me over the head, knock me out, go crazy with a pair of scissors making sure to leave a few chunks and bald spots here and there, and then, when I wake up, I'll probably LOVE it. Crazy. You bet. On another note, Pearl and I had day 2 of GFF'09 last night. This consisted of going to Firehouse Subs for dinner (after leaving the salon), watching The Duchess (good movie, btw), making a trip to Wally World for invitation card stock half-way through The Duchess so Pearl would be able to settle down and not worry, and then sleep came crashing down on us around 11PM. Not all that exciting, but I think we had a good time! Oh - and something else that was funny! (Gosh, I'm long-winded today!) I left work yesterday and drove to the mechanic (not Our Favorite Mechanic, though - this one specializes in Volvos) to leave the 240 Volvo Wagon (affectionately, "The Beast") there for diagnostic analysis. I had requested that someone be available to drive me home, which was met with an immediate, "No problem!" I arrived, went inside, handed over the keys, got a few bits of info from the mechanic, and was immediately handed over to a 17 YEAR OLD BOY! Oh, man...old I did feel. It was explained to me that this BOY was the brother of the mechanic and that he'd been called in to give me a lift home. Yay. BOY led me outside to a MERCEDES M CLASS SUV. Me: "Whose car is this?" BOY: "My parents, but I'm the only one who ever drives it." Again...yay. 17 year old boy, driving a 35 year old woman home from his brother's auto shop. Oh fun. I'm so glad he knows where I live. I think I'll keep the doors locked (wait, I do that already) and all the curtains/blinds drawn. TTFN JMS