Got my hair did. Like everything else in life, I like parts but I’m not crazy about the whole. I want to do surgery on it but I’ve been urged to leave it alone. I just want a great haircut for once. Not a this-is-okay-but-I-don’t-like-it-enough-to-do-anything-but-grow-it-right-back-out-the-way-it-was-before cut. Middle class woes, aren’t they fun?
Saw the Star Trek movie today before work. It’s very bromantic and full of very attractive people and lens flares. Jesus, with the lens flares. The future’s so bright; why weren’t any of those people wearing shades?
Anyway, it’s a fun flick, even though as soon as the time-travel shit kicked in I instantly lost the ability to comprehend anything that was going on. Except the bits about the black holes. I know from a three-page paper I did in freshman science in college that that was allllll bunk.
What else what else what else? Lots.
Nearly instant update: Um. I got a little tipsy and had some scissors in the bathroom and went to work. The good news is that I didn’t make it look any worse. The other good news is that now I am ready to go in to the salon and demand the cut I want, which I have asked for twice now but been discouraged from thanks to my “dominant part.” But the thing is, my part LOOKS dominant for people who just happen to glance at my scalp, but the truth is? It’s a total pushover once you get to know it. THAT IS COMPLETELY NON-ANALOGOUS TO MY PERSONALITY, JEEZ.