Let me depict a series of events for you. They begin like this:
At around 5:00 pm yesterday, I was filled with an unexpected joy, a joie de vie propelled by the end of a workday and a bit of sunshine peaking through the dense clouds. This inspired me to go the the store to buy a bottle of wine, mostly to cheer up my disheartened roommate. Not just any store, and not just any wine, might I add. I headed to the grocery store for a bottle of their finest Boone's Farm, peach flavor. I am not a drinker, nor do I like wine, but if the wine tastes like it came from a juice box, then order me a glass of that. The entrance to the grocery store was decorated with spring flowers, and I also purchased a small pot of daffodils. My next thought went, "hmmmm, jellybeans." I left the store with my 3 items.
The following hours were spent eating dinner, drinking a glass of Boone's, watching shows on Hulu, Justin Bieber videos, filing nails, hanging with roommate. It was that late hour between 9:00 and 10:00 where it went sour. This hour involved scissors and hair, a combo nastier than peanut butter and mayonnaise (and I would know). I was badly in need of a trim just to remove my split ends. This part went well, but was enhanced when my roommate began getting creative with her hair, trimming not just her ends, but revamping her layers. "I want to do that too," I said, like a child watching her older sister. 5 minutes later, I was holding a rather large chunk of hair and saying "What have I done?". I comforted myself by thinking it would just blend into my layers.
This morning's hair blowing revealed a different outcome. Those were some important hairs I cut off.
:(
Today's playlist: Lykke Li "Everybody But Me"
