Monthly Archives: June 2008

Fickle

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Sometimes I can be really fickle. Not with friendships or anything like that, but when it comes to hair color I really need an option that says “varies” or “subject to change,” and when it comes to domain names and webhosts I’m almost as bad.

I mean, I like Dreamhost, for the most part, but sometimes I see what other services offer and think about changing, and while I will eventually do something with the 23 (no I am not exaggerating that number) domains I own, sometimes I wish I could just turn them into one of those i4 sites, that are just link portals, and not worry about them any more.

I’ve come close. I’ve temporarily parked a few, but then I decide to revive them, or worse, I buy NEW ONES to replace those I no longer need.

Yes, I know, I’m a sick, sick person.

But I’m never boring.

Hairy Situations

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The term “flat iron” always brings two images into my mind. The first is a scene from one of the Little House books, where Laura mentions that Ma put flat irons in the bed to warm the sheets on cold nights. Those, of course, were actually regular irons, not the flat irons we all know of, that are for hair.

The other scene is one from Little Women, and it’s the one where Jo is doing Meg’s hair before the ball, and she burns her sisters bangs because the iron tongs are too hot. I can’t imagine doing my hair with iron tongs, but I’ve done enough curling, crimping, and straightening to know that the best thing one can possibly use is something like the ceramic flat irons shown here: http://www.misikko.com/flat-irons.html

Unlike the painted metal hair appliances I grew up with, the Misikko irons won’t stick to your hair – at least, not when used correctly. They don’t mention what may happen if you curl hair that’s already been gelled or sprayed the way we used to in high school (hey, it was the eighties. Space monkey hair was de rigeur). I suspect they wouldn’t be horribly impacted, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Even so, if ceramic hair irons are anything like ceramic cookware, they radiate more intensely at a lower temperature, and work way better than any alternative.

Flat irons are meant for straightening hair, anyway, so spray probably isn’t an issue. As someone who’s always had bone-straight hair, I’ve never had the pleasure of trying to iron mine, only attempts to curl it (which never works well, because my hair is heavy and fine, and the curls fall out), but it’s the rule of life isn’t it, that we who have straight hair always want curls, and the curly girls want their hair straight.

While I’m now an expert on how to care for color treated hair, especially funky colors, and have done every possible thing to my own hair (short of extensions) from cutting my own bangs (not recently, mind you) to having it spiral permed (I think I wanted to iron it when my perms were growing out), to sleeping in cornrows so I could have wild ripply hair the next morning, I can honestly say that I’ve never singed my hair so badly it came off on the curling iron.

I suspect if Jo March had used a ceramic flat iron for Meg, she wouldn’t have had that issue, either.

Media Monday: Bend and Snap

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My muse isn’t speaking to me, and all I want to do is sleep, read, and watch endless episodes of the early seasons of ER, so, in an effort to inject a bit of spirit into the day, I’m sharing a clip from MTV’s airing (last fall) of Legally Blonde: the Musical that I found on YouTube.

It’s quite possibly the pinkest musical ever.

It may be a cliche…

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…but it’s completely true that at least a piece of my heart was left in San Francisco. As I told a friend over a lovely sushi lunch today, it’s my favorite city in the world, and if I ever had the opportunity to move back, even if it meant trading my writing life for one of many San Francisco jobs with far less autonomy, I would.

Sadly, however, Fuzzy’s career is the one that dictates where we live, and unless we want to trade our house here in Texas for a condo in Boca Raton, we’re not moving.

Still, I’m two months away from my writing conference, which will mean a whole week in the city by the bay and I’m getting more and more excited, even though it’ll also mean a week of no Fuzzy and no dogs, and funky pillows.

And probably losing another piece of my heart.

Come Saturday Morning

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My rhythm is completely off with Fuzzy away, and I hate to admit that, because it makes me feel like I don’t have a life without his presence. It’s not true, of course. We have separate interests anyway, and we don’t spend every moment of the weekend together even when he’s home, but the bed is too big at night, and the house is too quiet.

I spent Thursday night, working far later than I usually do, working, writing about such topics as California auto insurance, and staying up later than I should have, but the end result was that I didn’t have to work on Friday.

Here’s my thing about Fridays and work: In the mortgage industry, the loan officers all leave by two on Friday, leaving admins, processors and underwriters to close out the day. Inevitably there would be a crisis at 4:30 PM on Friday afternoon, and we’d end up cleaning up other people’s messes at six or seven, and really resenting having to be there so late. As a result, I like to have my Friday’s clear, so that if something comes up, I can handle it and be DONE. I’m not always able to do so – but I try pretty hard.

Come Saturday morning, I’m in a much better mood than I would have been if I’d been racing to complete tasks the day before.

Still Here

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I’ve been really drugged – “vicozy” to use a term a twitter-bud coined to describe the feeling one has when hopped up on vicodin – and really tired, and I’m still sore despite not having a conclusive diagnosis, but I’m finally feeling a bit better, although the cocktail of pain killers and antibiotics probably has a lot to do with it.

On Tuesday, I saw a g/i specialist who sent me for an ultrasound, just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything with the ct scan, and then was given instructions to set up a colonoscopy, though I have permission to cancel that if I’m feeling better.

Somewhat ironically one of the spam emails I received today was for a colon cleanser, and I have to admit I found that amusing.

In other news, Fuzzy’s in Hong Kong building servers, Zorro’s heart murmur is worse, and I’ve had the worst week ever work-wise for a number of reasons I won’t bother you with.

I baked cookies last night, and they’re great, but I’m now out of vanilla, which is tragic. The cookies have this wonderful caramelly flavor beneath the chocolate (they’re Ghirardelli chocolate chip cookies, with double the vanilla). I’m quite certain they have medicinal qualities.

Just Linking…

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I’ve made it a policy not to talk politics in my blog. I have strong opinions, but I don’t feel the need to air them here. Nevertheless, the news of Obama securing the democratic nomination for President, months before the convention has even taken place, mind you, has me unsettled.

I have nothing in particular against Obama. I have nothing specific against Clinton. I think either of them would be a damn sight better than McCain, and during the Texas primary I had to really vote with my heart.

But I think all of those people who are Obama supporters and who think Clinton should just “go away,” or should have stopped running, should read

this link from Shakespeare Sister. The writer, another Melissa, has expressed much of what I’ve seen and felt this year.

I shall now return to much cheerier subjects, like the fact that my stomach hurts less today, and the cocktail of antibiotics the size of quarters, vicodin, and anti-nausea pills seems to be working.

Later today, there will be a post about something really amazing. Like swim-cap fashion.
No, really.