I just thought you should know

This post has been in my drafts for a long time (since 10/17/05, apparently) because it didn't seem fair to post it as it was actually happening. But now that the crisis has passed . . .


Growing up, it seemed like I was constantly in charge of my younger siblings -- my parents frequently went out at night, and when I was in high school, my mom got a part time job, leaving me in charge of the younger ones most afternoons after school.

My youngest sister was born when I was just shy of twelve years old. So Steph spent the first five years or so of her life with me as her oldest sister, but also to some extent as her surrogate mother. I have a harder time knowing where the boundaries are with her than I do my other siblings. I feel far more responsible for her than I do the others. I'm able to accept them as adults and I'm intimately aware that we're all growing older. But I've blocked out Steph's aging, to the extent that I still thought she was nineteen the year she turned twenty-one.

She'll graduate from college this December, and then I expect she'll be starting her "real life". For awhile she was talking about either moving somewhere near my parents after graduation, or coming here to Iowa City. Of course, I'd rather she come here, and only partly for selfish reasons, but I was fine with either choice.

Then last month, she said maybe she'd move to Texas instead. It's not really my favorite plan, but this one IS mostly for selfish reasons, so I've tried to let it go.

Last night, PJ called. I could hear Abigail cooing on the other end of the line. "She sounds like a happy baby, doesn't she?" queried PJ. "You'd never know to listen to her that she only had one nap."

We were gabbing about not much in particular when I asked, "Did you know Steph's talking about moving to Houston?" "I know!!" PJ burst out.

Then I heard: "It's ok, baby girl, it's ok. I didn't mean to scare you." PJ was trying hard not to laugh. "She's so tired, she's really having trouble holding it together. Apparently my talking's ok with her, but being excited about it is not."

And then I heard Abigail start to cry.

Did you hear that Steph?? Talking about you moving to Houston made the baby cry. I just thought you should know that.

Ripped from an email to my sister . . .

Can I just tell you that I cannot find anyone in this damned town who will actually cut my hair? I'm tired of what I've got, which is absolutely zero style, but I'm also unwilling to spend time looking at pictures trying to figure out what anything will look like on my head when past experience tells me that either one of two things will happen: a) the stylist will tell me that the style I've picked is completely inappropriate for my hair or b) NOT tell me, and my head STILL ends up looking NOTHING like what I thought it would.

So the last two times I've gone to get a hair cut (two different places), I've explained to the woman cutting my hair that I want something different, and given a few things I know I *don't* want, and explained what I don't like about the current do (or lack thereof). And both times, the woman in question has essentially spent 15 min trimming my hair and then sent me out the door. The one today didn't even bother to trim enough to get all of the split ends off (and then she had the gall to try and sell me a dye job). So pardon my french, but seriously, WTF?!?!?!

What do I have to do to get a freaking hair cut?? I would think these woman would be drooling all over themselves at the chance to actually use some of their expertise and "art" for once. But apparently not. *rolls eyes*

So tomorrow, I'm going to call and make an appointment at the beauty college, because maybe those girls are young enough to have some balls. Jeez! Will let you know how it goes . . .

(And you know at least 75% of my pissiness about this is that I'm mad at myself for walking out that door, instead of saying, "I'm sorry, but I'm paying you to cut my hair and this is not what I want." But I'm an American consumer and I refuse to consider that this might have anything to do with me!)

Before:


After (bonus facial expression showing just how thrilled I am with the "new" do):

And Sue was her brother . . .

For a long time now, I've thought that Jonathan would make a very nice girl's name.

Unfortunately, I've yet to find anyone who agrees with me.

Updates

So yeah, unemployed. Took last week off to try and get some stuff done around the house. Was moderately successful and it did miles towards preserving my mental stability. This week the job hunt was to start, but then the iBook died -- fourth logic board bit the dust. :(

And since it's over 3 years old, Apple doesn't give a flying fig. How did I show them? I bought a MacBook. In theory, FedEx is bringing it to my house later today (damn Columbus!).

So until then, I'm stuck borrowing Pukka's computer, which just takes longer, because I have to remember where to find things, how to do things, what my logins are, what that URL was, etc. . . .

Plus I didn't have real good luck finding openings when I was poking around yesterday. When I checked before, it seemed like there were plenty of openings places, and I was confident I'd be able to find something when the time came. Now the market seems to have dried up a bit, and I'm fighting the urge to panic. Grown-up voice says that what goes around comes around, and that if there were positions before, there will be positions again. Neurotic voice says I missed my one and only chance and now I will never work again.

In other news, you can wash a plastic shower liner in the washing machine, and all the gunk does actually come off!

Pukka's head is like a drain clog just waiting to happen, so our shower drain is almost perpetually in some state between slow and not draining at all. At the old place, we had a shower with a door, so it was just the tub that suffered. Here, we have a real shower curtain, and the bottom of it gets pretty grungy pretty fast. Up until now, we've just replaced it every six months or so. No big deal there -- they cost less than $5.

But then a girlfriend told me that I could just toss it in the washing machine. I was skeptical. I figured either it would rip to pieces, or else the gunk would prove to be permanently melded to the plastic. But I just tried it and it actually works! Of course, last week we bought a replacement. But that's OK by me too, since it means the newly cleaned old one can go in the linen closet to take another turn when the new ones gets gunky.

So that's life around here in short -- immanent arrival of a new computer (yea!), no job on the immediate horizon (boo!), and novel yet mundane domestic discoveries (???). Don't you all wish you were me?

Just wondering . . .

. . . if you're trying to sell me a shirt made of duponi silk, why in god's name would you line it in polyester? Sheesh!

self-defeating

So part of the "losing our jobs" plan at our house was that I was going to win $10,000 in a sudoku contest.

Ok, not really, but it was a nice fantasy.

My plan was to take care of my entry while I was on vacation this last week. The deadline for entries was 7/31, so I wanted to fill out the entry form early (I already had all the correct answers), rather than putting it off until the last minute. Of course, that didn't happen, because when have I ever NOT put something off until the last minute? But Monday morning I filled out the form and put it in the envelope. And then Pukka & I dropped it in the mailbox on the way to lunch.

Yesterday, it came back to the house for postage.

That's me -- smart enough to do sudoku, just not smart enough to lick a stamp!

making me crazy

While we were at the beach, I got a sunburn.
I got a sunburn because I put the sunscreen on my back myself.
There are some parts of my back that I can't reach quite as well as I thought.
Now all those parts itch.

Argh!