March 06, 2003

little barbershop of horrors

Had horrifying dream last night that stood in front of the mirror, took scissors in hand and chopped long, straight hair into Katherine Zeta (a la Chicago) bob.
Snip!
Oh dear God!
Now, did not think it becoming on the nearly-always-lovely Ms. Jones and certainly did not become yours truly. Stared at self in mirror wondering just why exactly suddenly had too-short bangs. Bewilderment became panic as began franticly running fingers through short strands telling self over and over that was "just hair" and would grow back. In what, five years?
But most chilling fear of all was that J would see what this impulsive, scissor happy girl had done. Idea that J does not like short hair made Dreaming Self frantic. But Awake Self stood in front of real mirror minutes later, pulling unaltered middle-of-the-back long hair into ponytail thinking, "J does not care about your hair, silly girl. And you do not care what he thinks of it, either."
Indeed.
Reluctant Kitten has lost most of her reluctance (due undoubtedly to marvelous kitten-mothering skills) and thus has taken to following v. closely at all times. Leaning over sink wrestling with too-goopy mascara and felt tugging at scalp. Looked down to find kitten sitting in sink amusing herself by batting at curtain of hair.

H: I can see you're glad I didn't cut it. Now, scoot.
RK: ...
H: Get out of the sink, silly. Unless you want to get ready for work. You could go, you know. You'll work, and I'll stay here and sleep in the sunny spot all day. What do you think?
RK: ...
Concerned Roommate: Who are you talking to?
H: RK. We're having a chat. I'm trying to talk her into going to work for me.
CR: Ah. What does she think of that?
H: She doesn't seem too thrilled.
CR: Oh? Why not?
H: Well, you know her. She doesn't really say much. She's more of a listener. Maybe it was the thought of wearing uncomfortable shoes. Or maybe she's just scared to ride the bus by herself. Who knows.
CR: Two words. Kitty pumps.
H: (in fit of giggles) How about it RK?
RK: ...
H: Guess not.


Posted by This Fish at March 6, 2003 09:17 AM
Comments

lends a whole new perspective to "kitten heels."

Posted by: windowsill wendy at March 6, 2003 10:54 AM

me-ow

Posted by: hubs at March 6, 2003 12:07 PM

For what it's worth, I think silence = acceptance. Send that kitty to monkey job.

Posted by: Paul Gutman at March 6, 2003 12:30 PM

"Just like women! They sent a kitty to do a monkey's job!"

Does she wear the pumps on all four feet or does she walk on her hind legs?

I had a friend whose kitten would sit on her lap when she was on the toilet. And also liked to jump in the still-warm shower area when she got out. Kittens are silly. But fun. One of the great joys of life.

Posted by: Michael at March 6, 2003 01:33 PM

Hair, a valuable part of you, is a symbol for J. It may be horrific to picture the world without it, but if Z-J managed to dance so dazzlingly with the boy cut, then so can you.

Posted by: S. at March 6, 2003 02:28 PM

ooh! I like!
But I'm keeping the hair. ;)

Posted by: Fish at March 6, 2003 04:13 PM

For the well-heeled kitty, there is Puss in Boots (an actual children's book, warping young readers into thinking feline footwear is normal).

I'm beginning to think my dog could do my job, at least on casual-dress day. A few of my co-workers already drink out of the toilet and leave puddles on the floor.

Posted by: Texas T-bone at March 6, 2003 04:42 PM

I've got a 14-pound orange tabby who can sleep on a computer keyboard like nobody's business.

Which, on certain days, makes him perfectly capable of subbing for me. And my employees probably would consider him a better manager.

Posted by: Lex at March 6, 2003 05:42 PM

RK's brother says, "Meow." I think that means he misses her.

Posted by: Big City GalPal at March 7, 2003 07:36 AM