Can I get some socks over here?

I've got cold feet.

No, I'm not getting married. Oregon doesn't allow same-sex marriage yet.

But I do have a hair-did appointment for tomorrow. *Gulp*

Now I realize it's just hair. It grows back. But I've been psychin' myself up for this haircut for the past week. I just don't know if I have the balls to do it: cut it off. Nooo, not some lesbi pixie cut. (I'll wait until after gay marriage is allowed). But a nice chin chop. (Please don't get me wrong and assuming I'm jumping on another bandwagon of the "Posh," "Suri," or "Rihanna.")

All I want is a cute haircut that can make my anorexic hairstands not look like they've gone 10 rounds of chemo. (Read: thin hair, zilch oomph, absolutely no curl, rivals that of what your grandmother has, okay, probably even less than that).

So I will get my haircut tomorrow, after all it's time to rid the developing split ends. I just hope that I can verbalize that what I don't want is some razor cut, red carpet 'do. I'm lazy, lesbian, and...lazy. My idea of a good hairstyle is it dries in 10 minutes with a blow dry, and I can pop it up into velcros for 15 before I rush out the door to get my coffee fix at work. Oh ya, and it can be tied back somehow for lesbian adventures and yoga (which are practically the same thing, but I'll continue to define them as different activities).

And damn, I could use a good shampoo by now. (Don't talk, just scrub my scalp. We'll talk later). I equate it to shoe shopping, winning the lottery, flying in for your friend's birthday. Pretty darn good. :)