For anyone who reads my infrequent Facebook pages, you’ll know I whacked off a LOT of hair over the past few days. My hair was long – hung down my back about to the middle of my shoulder blades . I had at least 5″ cut off and feel SOOO much better. It’s a fairly blunt cut; I don’t do layers as a rule because they do not do nice things for me or for my hair. The bottom layers are cut into something of a “wedge”. (Poolie‘s hairdresser extraordinaire Joanie will know what I mean.)
I intended to take a phone shot of myself tonight, I haven’t had time to figure out how to do that with my new phone. It has a camera and I have tried. I guess it’s because the touchscreen is less sensitive than an iPhone. That’s a good thing: it means I won’t accidentally call the Kuiper Belt in a spate of butt-dialing.
Those interplanetary calls will kill you.
Other than getting used to a more robust punch on the screen, I am loving the new/old phone. It’s a Galaxy S and works like a champ. I knew it wasn’t new, so was prepared for whatever I got in terms of condition and function. In fact, it looks like new and performs just fine.
The haircut has garnered many compliments. I’ll take ’em. It’s cute, it’s cool and it’s really easy to keep up. It flips up naturally like the picture – in fact that’s the exact cut except my bangs are shorter (at my insistence). My face will never win any beauty contests but I figure my body – even my hair – will do the best thing to suit me if I give it half a chance. (Hey, it could happen!)
The writing took a detour for the past few days. I have been helping my friend with her rewrites and mine took a back seat. It won’t take long for me to fix the first couple of chapters – her suggestions were a lot less comprehensive than mine to her. ‘S all right. I’m glad I could help her. She said she read the original and the final revision side-by-side and the difference was striking.
Lisagh has more heart and more romance in her pinkie than I have in my entire body, for several lifetimes. I can deal. I’m not a romantic at heart. I won’t pretend I’m incapable of loving anyone, but that’s not the same thing. I don’t get love, at least not romantic love. I think of it as a butterfly or a kaleidoscope. Pretty, but fleeting and with very little long-term effect on my world.
Besides, I’ve already done rewrites on my first couple of chapters. It’s when you get in deeper that I’ve got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy.
Big bang just went off outside. (A series of them, actually.) Either some dingbat’s shooting off leftover fireworks, it’s gunshots, or I’m auditory witness to the birth of a new universe. I’m guessing it’s door #1. Poor Ye Puppy of Doggy is not happy. I’m fine as long as they don’t keep me up all night.