Sunday, October 23, 2011

Hair in, hair out

So I'm using this new shampoo that's GUARANTEED to make me not bald. I don't know if it's the shampoo manufacturer that's guaranteeing it or the fine folks at Evolution where I faithfully get my hair colored and cut on a very regular basis, but hey, a guarantee is a guarantee as far as I'm concerned. What is this miracle shampoo that brazenly touts the ability to make my hair grow fuller, stronger, faster (maybe that's not a good thing considering I already color every four weeks), you ask? It's called Revita. That's right, just Revita. I thought it was something like "RevitaFast" or "RevitaPoo" or something a little bit more flashy, but apparently they don't need to be flashy. They just need to make me not bald.

Literally every time I go to the salon I work in the fact that my hair is falling out in clumps (I tend to be a little dramatic) since I'd recently lost some weight. Either I'm asking my stylist to strategically style around the female pattern baldness, or I'm asking both my stylist and my colorist pointblank if they notice way less hair than last time. They have consistently blown off my concerns, but last Friday when I went in, my colorist practically jumped me at the door to tell me about this new shampoo. Which got me thinking that all this time they were being less than truthful.

I'm crazy-vain about my hair. If I wasn't, I wouldn't spend the fortune on it that I do. So the idea of having way more of it in a somewhat timely fashion (ninety days!) intrigued me enough to break out the cash and drop an additional $100 on the shampoo and conditioner combo (not EXACTLY $100, but almost..). The kicker is I have to use it EVERY DAY (or every washing actually) (which for me really is pretty much every day) and I'd start to notice results in as little as two weeks. Instant Gratification Girl loves this idea. My stylist has been using it, and she says she totally can tell a difference, even after three weeks. This is important to me because our hair is very similar. AND it's guaranteed, so, really, what have I got to lose?

So I just started week two today and the good news is I've stuck to the regimen. Which is no small task for me. My whole life my hair has had a mind of its own, so I have to be really creative with shampoo, conditioner and product. Like I always have to switch it up. Like daily. Like I had probably four different kinds of shampoo and four different kinds of conditioner in the shower and in an effort to make my hair somewhat agreeable, I'd have to switch up combinations every day. I'm no mathematician, but for those of you who can actually do math, that's the potential for a lot of combinations (right? Seriously, I can't do math).

Now, however, I am a one shampoo/one conditioner kind of gal. I even bagged up all the other shampoos and conditioners in my shower and put them in the bathroom closet (I didn't throw them out, there's something like $575 worth of product in there. You think I'm kidding.). The good news is the conditioner is not heavy and does not weigh down my hair like literally EVERY OTHER CONDITIONER ON THE PLANET does. Weird hair.

So the way it works though, and this is the hard part for me, is that you have to have it on your head for two minutes. EACH. So two minutes for the shampoo, rinse, two minutes for the conditioner. I'm seriously Fast Shower Taking Girl, and two minutes is a long time if you don't have much to do in there. I wash of course, thoroughly and completely, but how long can THAT take? Certainly not two whole minutes. I mean it. Count out two whole real minutes right now. It's a long time. Anyway, I had to come up with some other things to do in the shower while the RevitaPoo worked it's magic, so I finally broke down and decided to shave every day. Something I've never done.

I've gone whole seasons without shaving before. Winter? Why in the world would I shave in the winter? Taking my cue from the cats (and based upon utter laziness), that extra coat of fur helps keep me toasty in my spinsterdom. It's not like anyone is going to feel my leg anyway. And in the off chance that I might venture out to a bar mid-winter, I'd hope for at least a day's advance notice to hack through the overgrowth that would keep me just this side of human (never shave your legs on the DAY of an event that potentially could end up in a heated make-out session. Your chances of actually making out are ruined. This is a proven fact.). But I digress. Sort of.

Seriously I have never been so smooth in my life.

And I'm single. So really, what's the point?

A lustrous, full-bodied head of hair, that's what.

I'll check back with you in a couple of weeks and let you know how it's doing, the regrowth. It's exciting to have a project. I feel like a scientist. A mad, not-so-bald scientist.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

I'm really trying, people.

So a few Saturdays I got a speeding ticket coming back from the Winco in Tigard. It was kind of early (for everyone else) and there was pretty much zero traffic on that stretch of Highway 99W just as you're passing Greenburg Road - my whole life there has never been zero traffic on 99W - so apparently with all the caffeine and excitement I took full advantage. He got me going 55 (in a 35, which isn't hard to do) but after my wit and charm got ahold of him he wrote the ticket for 45. The bail was set at $145, and we had a long talk about various and sundry me-related things (totally amped on caffeine), and after I promised not to speed for the whole rest of the day he let me go on my merry way.

Yesterday was court. He suggested that I go to court so that the judge reduced my fine. But by Tuesday I was kind of thinking, well, what the hell. What do I say? I mean obviously I was guilty, so what do I do when I plead? Just stand there like an idiot? I called the court clerk and she told me pretty much, yeah. So I did.

Lots of people there before me, which made me mentally tally how much the city of Tigard gets in revenue for this crap (but the tallying didn't take long since I can't do math), and I got to listen to the various infractions and fines that appear to happen on a regular basis over there in Tigard. Interesting, but really boring.

Here's what kind of shocked me, though. Seriously, it's COURT. Sure, it's TRAFFIC court, but it's still court. Shut up, people! The lady that checks you in reminds you to turn off your phone, but that wasn't the distraction. Most people came with someone, or in one case ran into someone they knew, and just chatted away during the whole deal. Like, loudly. Like, with no real regard for the judge or what was going on at the front of the room. Chatting away, like it was a bar or something. I gave up giving the stink eye after about twenty minutes, but seriously, it was ridiculous. The guy in front of me was even showing a video (on his phone that was supposed to be off) to his buddy and giving him the color commentary. The judge did nothing about it, and there was no real bailiff, probably because this shit must be normal and what can he do.. he's just a judge. Nice. Show some respect.

When it was finally my turn, he was very nice to me, pleasant, told me if I had to get a speeding ticket it was a good kind to get (within 10 miles of the speed limit), and complimented me on my great record. Then he reduced the fine to $109 and sent me to the clerk to get my paperwork. The next case behind me involved some broad who apparently couldn't speak for herself, so the blowhard she met there did the talking for her (it was comical actually so me and the clerk listened for a little while). We chatted about how shocked I was at the noise level and she said since there ARE no bailiffs, nobody does anything about it. We lamented about the lack of respect for something like this, I mean, you have your whole life to chit chat with your friends, you can't shut up for an hour during something like court? Then she gave me my paperwork, I paid the cashier, and went on my way.

It wasn't horrific, but it also wasn't the greatest time in the world to have to pay $109 to anyone, let alone a city I've never been that big a fan of, but it taught me a lesson, I guess. Speed in Beaverton, maybe? I don't know.

All I know is that stupid $109 might have helped with the sting of paying flipping $600 for airfare in December. Might have (still having a hard time swallowing that). But we live and learn and pray our insurance company doesn't do a random search and increase our rates just in time to book a trip, abide by the no-heat-til-December 1 rule, and break down and buy a winter coat.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Every couple of weeks is not acceptable.

I've been in Lincoln Tower more in the last few weeks than I have been all year. It's the branch closest to my house, shortest drive, easiest access to a Dutch Bros coffee, and I am literally never there. I like it there. I like the people, the proximity, and the iced coffee in the afternoons from Minh at the deli (not to mention the Bi Bam Bap she makes when you really need some eatin' food - holy cow that's good).

Here's what I don't like: I don't like the dungeon (the parking garage and the only "legal" smoking section left since we had a change in building management. Yeah, I smoke. I'll get past it sooner or later.)(And hey, so will you). It's dark, cold, and this time of year spiders are literally dangling from the concrete rafters just waiting to land in your hair. It's dank and dreary and depressing even on those days when it might be sunny outside. We still sneak outside in the parking lot, but depending on the security guard on duty, it's dicey. But it sure is nice to have some sun on your face for once this year.

I also can't stand the bathrooms. The bathroom closest to our office has smelled bad since forever. Not just because women seriously are way worse than men when it comes to leaving a mess behind but there's just this foul sewer smell in there all the time that no amount of air freshener they try to put in there will ever take away. Recently the (somewhat) new management company has installed automatic soap dispensers in that bathroom, along with changing something in the faucets that makes the water come out in more of a light spray than an actual stream of water. My guess is that this is all in an effort to save money.

So here's what happens when you use this stinky, disgusting hell-hole of a bathroom twenty-seven times a day like I do: Hold your breath while you do your business, and run the faucet long enough to get the hot water running. I don't know the first thing about plumbing, but somehow, since the management change, the water goes cold within seconds of the faucet being turned off. It's a main floor bathroom that gets a lot of traffic, so I'm not sure how one day you turn on the normal streaming faucet and the hot water is ALWAYS hot, and then the next they put these grate thingies on and the water is always cold. Or maybe tepid if you let it run long enough, and then back to cold if you wait still longer. The automatic soap dispensers do not work consistently, especially first thing in the morning - you hold your hand in the obvious position, and it sort of spits out this weak soap that's already been sudsed up for you. You have to wave your hand under it several times to get anything close to a lather, and by the time it's time to rinse your hands the water is freezing again. Often times when you go for soap it doesn't even come out. It just stops working all together. Which is fantastic considering what you've just finished doing.

I'm sure it's a cost-saving attempt, but nobody likes a quitter, and I pretty much let that faucet run for as long as I can to a) warm up, b) lather and actually wash my hands, and c) rinse off this cheap filmy soap. It's probably not very environmentally conscious, but it's my little rebellion against a management company that makes me go to a dungeon to get a cigarette. Bastards.

Not much else going on, had some fun weekends, though I lost my toe ring. I'm not even sure when. I noticed it missing during Monday's shower, but it wasn't in my socks or in any shoes I'd worn that weekend, and it wasn't in my bed. So it COULD be in Kim's guest bed but who knows. I mean, I took two showers after crashing there and didn't notice my toe ring-less toe, and it's kind of hard to miss. It's been on my toe since like 2001 (it's not one of those adjustable kind of rings, it's one that I had to jam over the toe pad with a good dose of lotion to lube up the process. I mean, it was on there. I just don't know how it could have happened.) so I'm kind of bummed. Kind of. I guess I really only think about it when I shower.

I'm down to the decision with Cancun in December, and the thing that is killing me right now is airfare is the most expensive it has been in years. It's like $600. Killing me. This will be the most money I've spent on a week in ages. I better be flipping black by the time I get back or there will be hell to pay.

So there, kids, I've done it. Blogged without being threatened by Becky. She's not even in the country right now and I blogged. She'll be so pleased when she gets back because I totally intend to blog again before then.

Yeah, we'll see how that goes.

Sunday, October 09, 2011

You're Done.

(Becky told me she was going to leave me if I didn't blog soon. I can't risk it. She might be all I have left.)

So I'm driving around today dropping off some stuff at Mark and Becky's, running a little bit of errand at the Albertson's (because for some reason you can't find ground cloves at the Trader Joe's OR the Target's supermarket section, and it turns out it's because GROUND CLOVES ARE APPARENTLY GROUND WITH DIAMONDS they're so flipping expensive), when, at the close of my journey, as I am waiting to take a left on to my street, the song "Old Time Rock 'n Roll" comes on the radio. And it all comes crashing back to me.

All the times I hear that song while I'm in the car and can't switch the station fast enough. All the profanity spewing from my mouth as if I'm suddenly possessed by a demon that hates that song even more than my sane self does. All the obvious digits my blood pressure increases in the space of the one second (because I can name that tune in less than one second) that I hear any part of that song. I really don't like that song.

You know, it probably started out as a pretty good song, one hundred and fifty years ago when it first came out. But it isn't anymore. Because despite the fact that the song is easily one hundred and fifty years old, it gets more air time than it ever should have. Still. I think K103 still plays it at 5pm every Friday to signal the end of the work week even. Why they seem to think that a horrible song like "Old Time Rock 'n Roll" would signal the end of the work week in any universe is beyond me. It's not giving me ANY kind of signal besides ohmygodchangethestationchangethestationchangethestation.

And it's not just on the radio. Now and again I am asked to see this or that friend's oldies' band at some random bar on a Friday, and I go, because I feel badly that I never see this or that friend, since I'm a big fan of spending my weekends doing what I want to do, and not what I feel obligated to do, and you can bet any amount of money that said oldies' band will have "Old Time Rock 'n Roll" on their playlist. Why? It's not a good song. It's a terrible song. A terrible song that has been overplayed for centuries and that should finally and once and for all be put to bed.

I've heard it sung by people for whom English is a second language (which actually makes it better than the orignal). I've torn up karaoke slips when people have requested to sing it (I used to be a KJ. A thousand years ago I used to be a KJ. I also tore up slips for people who requested to sing "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", "Summer Nights" and "Wonderwall", but this isn't about those songs). I've heard it in the doctors' office, the supermarket, and even as musak in elevators. I don't understand why ANYone would think this is a song that needs to be played so many years after that stupid Tom Cruise movie where it obviously lived its heyday.

It's over, "Old Time Rock 'n Roll". It's time to put you out to pasture. The fact that a song affects me so much that I have to come in here and pound out this post is enough proof that you are a stupid, stupid song that has extended your fifteen minutes WAY past your shelf life. And though I really wasn't expecting to thank you today, I do appreciate that you gave me an opportunity to not lose Becky.