My Haircut

I've been in desperate need of a haircut for a while now. So I asked around the office to see if there was anyone really good near my new offices. I got a recommendation that seemed really good and reasonably priced, but I was warned 'he's very very opinionated.' Given my complete and utter lack of fashion and style, I don't mind having a bossy stylist. Yesterday I trekked down to the salon and had to fill out a form detailing my usual 'routine' with my hair. The form was turned into the stylist whom I shall call 'S.' I should preface this with, he did a great job and I'll definitely be going back to him. In fact, I think he's the best I've been to since I've been in DC. The conversation with S though was hysterical, it went like this:

S: 'I see you do not do anything to style your hair.'
Me: 'Yes, that's right-- I'm fairly lazy.'
S: 'So you only blow dry?'
Me: 'No."
S: 'No??? NO BLOW DRY?!?!?! You don't do anything?'
Me: 'Ummm I brush it and wash and condition and... '
S: 'Well, I will tell you my opinion'
Me: 'Okay, pray tell...'
S: 'Your hair needs to be longer, it has nice wave. You need to grow it. I will fix the layers in the mean time.' (I'll spare you the details of his long drawn out elaborate plan for the future of my hair)
Me: "I will dedicate all of my free time to growing my hair."
S: "Good." (not even the hint of a smile--that's a funny joke right???)
(then he starts cutting my hair-- DRY! No wash, no rinse, NADA!)
Me: ''Do you always cut hair dry? I've never had my hair cut when it's dry. "
S: "No. Never"
Me: "umm.... what?"
S: "If you will not bother to dry your hair why should I? You will not do it anyway."
Me: "ummm... what?"
S: "Well, I need to see how it is when it is air dryed. I need to see growth patterns, since you will not blow dry it."
Me: "Okay, fair enough."
S: "You need to grow your hair."
Me: "Yes, I got that, I'm busy right now trying to grow it faster than you can cut it."
S: (frowns) "You could be sexy if you only blow dried."
M: (confused) "I don't think the blow dryer is my problem."
S: "If your hair was longer it would look like the hair of a Victoria's Secret model."
Me: "Pity I don't have the body to match."
S: (not even a glimmer of a smile!) "You will. I will cut good layers"

I hope he meant in my hair and not my hips!!!!

The Nerdiest Baseball Game Ever?

Last month, P and I attended the annual Congressional baseball game. It was a pretty neat experience. P and I enjoy going to baseball games anyway, so it was particularly fun to watch the Dem's and Republican's battle it out.

The fans were particularly nerdy, myself included. I've never seen so many people in full suits at a game! Most of the audience was also busy sending work mails on their blackberries -- that never happens at a regular Nat's game (except for maybe P and me :) ). Additionally there were signs like 'The Majority Rocks!' and 'Republican Revolution.' A particularly nerdy highlight was when Jeff Flake (R-AZ) was up to bat the audience taunted him by chanting in a sing-songy voice 'Earmarks, Earmarks, Eaaarrrmarks'.

If your wondering the R's won for the 8th straight year.

Meet Mercy

First off, I just want to thank you all for your support and prayers. Knowing I have such great friends in rough times makes a world of difference.

Now, in happier news. Well, different news anyway. There are a ton of feral cats that live in my neighborhood. We've given some of them nicknames-- there's 'One-Ear' 'Black Cat' and 'Scruffy' and 'Orangey.' For the most part they go about their business and we go about ours. On Tuesday morning, I left my house and saw a tiny kitten (clearly stray) under a tree in our front yard. Of course, I attempted to catch it to no avail. However, I did see where the little kitten lived and it was awful --under a step surrounded by beer bottles and rubbish. So sad. This bothered me all day long. Poor kitten!

When I got home from work, I spent 30 minutes carrying on to Peter how sad I was that I wasn't able to catch the kitten. The poor kitten destined to live the life of a feral cat. It's particularly sad because stray kittens under about 9-12 weeks are usually able to adapt to humans before becoming feral. Peter took pity on me and said he'd go look to see if the kitten. As if it would still be sitting under the tree. Well, she was!!! So I spent the next 45 minutes trying to catch her, stealthy following her down the block and finally was able to catch her by the tail (much to her chagrin). I carried her inside and set her up in our guest bathroom with the basics (food, water, litter). I gave her a few minutes then gave her a bath -- again this poor kitten was so traumatized. We took her to the vet the next day, and learned she was in good health with no diseases, and is about 8 weeks old.

Naturally, what I didn't consider is I'd end up with a third cat. An idea I'm not crazy about!!! I think that makes me a crazy cat lady. I desperately pleaded with Alina and my mom to take her but they neither one of them was even slightly interested in a new kitten and I couldn't bring myself to take her to the humane society. Of course, now I've bonded with her-- kittens are adorable.

We call her Mercy after the hospital my mom was in-- so meet Mercy my newest cat. Older cats Noël and Toby are not pleased, but they are starting to adjust. The age gap is big -- N & T are 13 and 12, making them grouchy old ladies!