love steals us from loneliness

So, I have been absent for a few days, mostly because I have had some of the most appalling days. Tuesday was bad as it always was, and Wednesday just took the biscuit. I woke up ten minutes before I needed to leave the house, resulting in my performing what I previously thought was impossible - I actually cleaned my teeth in the shower. I had to run for the bus, leaving m slightly gross and sweaty in the manner of someone who does no excercise (no, wait). Also, I have two weeks on Monday to complete the media project. I am booked in to record on Friday. That's my first session, by the way. I somehow have to record, edit and write up about my project in TWO FUCKING WEEKS. I am so buggared. I do have a rather fabulous script, it must be said, but I have a lot of voices I need for it. If, over the weekend, I happen to run up to you and insist that you say something I have underlined on a bit of papepr with a scratty blue biro, then just do what I say and don't argue. It's safer all round. OKAY?

So feeling spectacularly miserable I wander into the Post Office on the way home, cursing general existence and the fact I have lost my driving licence. They won't take forms for duplicates, but give me a number to phone. I dislike using the phone and it means another days delay. Feeling increasingly crap, I board the train to Liverpool as I will actually be early, and sit on the train. It gets stuck at Sandhills and I wait in the freezing cold for the next train, meaning that I am, in fact, late. But yay! Clareyperson!

The plan was to go and see a film about pigeons (just. don't. ask), but instead we went to see Iona, and in an attempt to catch up, we went for a meal. Despite the sad lack of Hannah (arghargharghisthisdoubledatingargh) we had a rather entertaining evening, we ate the nicest sundae in the world and generally had a good evening. Personal favourite moment, though, was discussing the new Harry Potter book, and wondering "If you could make J.K. Rowling write any line, what would it be?"

Mine was '"Hello Harry," said Sirius' which I thought was good. Then Clare managed to completely and utterly bitchslap us all with the best one EVER. "Harry woke up in the cupbaord beneath the stairs. It had all been a dream!"

We all collapsed over the table.

I decided that today would be a better day, so I bounced out of bed fairly early, had a long and luxurious shower and was even on time for the bus. The day is going okay thus far, weirdly, although I have to go home at lunchtime and get my hair cut. I am looking forward to this, but I am also slightly scared of hairdressers. I know exactly what I want, though, so it should be painless. I hope.

Erm, yes. Disjointed post again. Sorry. I will try and post regularly again soon.

~Hathy_Col~

(no subject)

OH MY GOD MY HAIR IS STRAIGHT.

Let's just say that again - MY HAIR IS STRAIGHT. That's right, straight. You know. That thing I'm not. And my hair never ever straight. It is like YE RULEZ. I have fluffy hair. It's quite short and cropped, or in my head it's meant to be. I went to the lovely, lovely hairdressers and she chopped it all off so it was short and cropped again. Then she offered to straighten it.

Well, I've heard this malarky before, and frankly as a rule it is LIES. ALL LIES. So, she starts straightening it. Before long, I was singing the straightener's praises. I HAVE STRAIGHT HAIR. It won't ast, of course - the ends are curling up as I type - but it is so gorgeous, and so light, and the colour seems lighter and WOW OH WOW.

So, I braved using a camera.

( before and after )

YAY.

If someone wants to write the best idea in the world then they will OWNEZ MY SOUL. Come on, people. You know that Doctor Who and Red Dwarf makes sense.

[eta: am so not glaring at the camera. I'm glaring at my Dad, as I dislike habing photos taken but I'm that hooked by livejournal that I wanted my flist to see. Is that sad?]

~Hathy_Col~