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It's been a while since I last blogged. I have a reason. I'm addicted to Spider solitaire. I tend to go through phases with it and right now, every time I sit down at the computer with the intent to blog, I find my mouse gravitating towards that little button on the side of the monitor. Instead of checking e-mail and blogs and attempting to peck out something here, I find myself sitting in a trance, determined to beat the game at least once before going to bed. Or feeding the kids, taking a shower, doing the laundry, washing the dishes. You get the idea.

Anyways, I won tonight and since I'm currently riding the high that victory brings, I figured I'd put the extra energy to some use. 'Course I could be making my son's lunch for school tomorrow, but where's the fun in that?

So here's the deal with last weekend - and yes, I can share most of it. Chad and I managed to get away to the city and it was fabulous in its way. The time spent with Chad was wonderful. BUT a major hair disaster put a decided damper on the holiday. Let me explain.

I needed some touch-ups done on my hair, a few extra layers put in to take some of the bulkiness out of the middle. I had been (notice the past tense) attempting to grow out my painfully-slow-growing hair for the summer and just wanted to thin out a couple of places.

Here's the thing. I have a good friend who cuts my hair and it's hard for me to trust someone else to understand what it is I want done. I allowed myself to be convinced to give a salon in the city a try.

I made the ultimate mistake of choosing the first place we came to in the mall. I figured big city, they must know what they were doing. I was WRONG! I took one look at the woman and almost walked out. I should have. There was something not quite right with her eyes and I was picking up some weird vibes from the place. The fact the receptionist looked like a cross from Ripley's Believe It or Not and some weird creature from a wax museum should have tipped me off. BUT I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. A mistake I won't duplicate.

I tried to explain to the butcher - pardon me, hairstylist - what it is I wanted and I thought I had made it clear despite her halting, broken English. With great trepidation I planted my backside in her chair and allowed myself to be draped with the black cloak. My stomach was churning and my nails firmly embedded in the arms of the chair as I fought to remain seated despite the nausea and light-headedness.

"I want to keep the length," I emphasized. "I just want it blended a little through here and maybe a few more layers. Don't take off any length."

"O-kee."

Ten excruciating minutes later and I looked like the worst version of an eighty's mullet EVER! I kid you not, she took off most of the length on the sides and LEFT THE BACK LONG! I stared for two shocked minutes, unable to reconcile the hideous creature in the mirror as being me. I gulped.

"What did you do? I asked you not to take off any length."

"Oh no, I didn't take off length. See?" And she pulled on the back of my hair.

"But you cut off the sides! The sides are short!"

"Uhhh, yes and now it blends so much betta."

"But the sides are SHORT! And the back is LONG!" She just stared at me through her evil Mirror-Mirror-on-the-Wall. "Just cut off the back, please. You might as well just cut it all off."

"O-kee."

So she did. She didn't even attempt to style it after. I had to ask for some product to try and put some curl back in it after she had ruthlessly combed it straight. As I went to pay, the receptionist looked at me with her soulless eyes and wax face. "How much you tip?"

I was taken aback. How much did one tip the person responsible for her worst nightmare? I was clueless, "Uh, I'll tip ten...I guess." And then I grew a back bone. "Uh, well, se-seven."

I received the nastiest look ever. "Seven?"

"Uh-huh."

I swear she hissed at me. Then she handed me the slip to sign. Imagine my shock when I realized she had gone ahead and charged the ten dollar tip to my card!

Although I struggled through the weekend trying NOT to think about what hair remained on my head, it was a lot of fun meeting up with some family. The weekend was full of wonderful company, conversation, good food and lots of fun and laughter.

And now that I'm home and have my trusty straightener, I've been able to resign myself to this new look. It isn't as bad as it first appeared and I'm accepting it, 'cause, let's face it, what else am I gonna do?

:: :: ::

On a completely different note, I watched P.S. I Love You tonight. I sobbed my eyes out! What an amazingly wonderful, funny, romantic, yet sad show. I am a complete mess. But, I think it may be one of my favorite contemporary chick flicks. Anyone seen it yet? I also watched 27 Dresses for the second time. What a cute, feel-good story.

Okay, it's getting late and I really should make Connor's lunch tonight since I don't function in the mornings and may possibly forget to include a spoon again. Not a good thing when half his lunch requires one.