Guess what? I got the haircut! Clare and I had a very Makeover Story morning yesterday, going to the Aveda salon and getting all of our hair chopped off. I had to beg and plead with my hairdresser to cut any of it off at all, and she still didn't cut as much as I wanted, so I had to go home and finish the bangs myself, which I did with grace and ease. What is it with these hairdressers that won't cut my hair? It's a renewable resource, people! I told Jamie, hereafter known as "The Hair Nazi," that I've cut my hair very short before (at least 4 different times!), and I liked it. But she told me that the haircut I wanted would look--and I quote!--"retarded." But, after my own modifications, I look really cute--something inbetween Amelie and Ramona Quimby. Adam is worried that people will think he's a pedophile. Clare had a kinder, gentler hairdresser who was willing to remove actual hair, so she looks great.
We also went to a baseball game last night. I can't remember if they do this at the major league games or not, since I've only been to a couple of those in my life, but at the AAA games each player chooses a theme song to be played when he goes out to bat. These tend to be songs by artists like AC/DC, Rush, or maybe some unrecognizable gangsta rap. Anyway, we got to talking about it, and I decided that if I were a Zephyr, my theme song would be "You're the Inspiration," by Chicago. (You know the one--"Gotta have you near me/gotta have you here be-say-yeah . . .") Adam said that he would have himself singing a karaoke song that he wrote, something along the lines of "I'm the greatest, the greatest greatest greatest, the best the best you've ever seen." He'd do new lyrics every week, though.
p.s. I finally filled out my answers to that survey I made.
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