Ginger Spice and Johnny 5
2004-03-16
3:10 p.m.

I have a hair appointment tomorrow (oh the life and times and the endless struggle of the suburban housewife with no kids) and I'm scared. It's a new place for me and a new concept. You get a separate colorist and stylist. I had to go in for a consultation first. We looked through books of hair bits and picked colors. I decided that in my head it's 1996 or so and I am Ginger Spice, so I'm doing the whole bright bright red with blonde streaks thing, just because it makes me laugh. I figure that it feels like 1996 here anyway, so why not? I bet the cats will like it.

I feel guilty spending money when I make exactly 0 dollars a year. I should really think about maybe getting a job. Soon. Or, maybe later.

I have a wicked farmer tan right now. Or, more like, I have a much higher concentration of freckles on the part of my arm that is exposed when I wear short sleeves. This horrifies me (I swear to god, every individual freckle and mole whispers "cann..cer" in my ear while I'm trying to fall asleep), so I've gotten a lot more dilligent with the sunscreen. Instead of just the SPF 15 lotion that I was using, I've stepped it up to that plus SPF 30 spray. Because cancer isn't fooled my my series of abrupt switchbacks and moves and corporate apartments, it still knows where I live. And so I spray.

Yesterday my husband and I went hiking in the national park that is practically in our backyard, and it was by far the most bizarre hike I've ever been on. We went about 4 miles, and we took some trails we hadn't been on yet because they start from the trailhead that's mainly for people on horseback. Well, that led to a lot of shit, which was funny. At first.

It's been raining a fair bit (for Tucson) and so we were treated to a much greener (read: it was green at all, as opposed to the normal brown, brown, and tan with the occasional green cactus) hike than usual. We also tramped through what appeared to be a completely dead orchard, and past lots of trees that I've never seen before out here. The combined effect was something like Return to Oz, Dr. Seuss, and that scene in Beavis and Butthead Do America where Beavis eats the cactus and freaks out. Good times.

I weighed in today and, amazingly (considering what I ate at the party on Saturday, and what I've been snacking on since (oh the CHEESE)), lost two pounds. Which is a total of 10.2 in 4 weeks. Which means I got a ribbon. Heh. I, embarassingly, got a little teary when everyone clapped. I am an overly emotional person who cries if she even sees that Short Circuit is on TV, let alone when I watch it. And don't even get me started about when people chant, "Ru-dy! Ru-dy!" Sob. Ah, the fragile, fragile bits of lame that inhabit my tender for robots and Samwise heart.