So DWTS is over. Is it just me or is that show on for about three weeks too long? I guess it all worked out the way it should. Nicole was obviously the very best dancer despite being hard to route for. Evan did such a great job even though his attempt to appease the judges by faking charisma with Anna was unsettling. It reminded me of my past life in the corporate world where it's not enough to do good work, you've also got to pretend that you like it. You've got to buy in. I'd like to illustrate that statement with an example, but I've repressed those memories. Sometimes personal happiness trumps an accurate historical record.
The big hair cut happened yesterday. That was an adventure. It wasn't supposed to be a big hair cut at all. Well, first let me tell you that I started with a pedicure. I haven't had one in years. It was so great. Very relaxing. Except for a brief and shining moment when my pedicure lady called the other pedicure lady over so they could jointly admire my toenail shape (I'm not even kidding. I've got adorable feet.), I was able to just relax quietly with my book. I'm reading The City of Your Final Destination. It's a huge change of gears after The Ask. Very different in tone and pace. It's about a graduate student trying to establish himself in academia, but he's got no momentum, no forward trajectory. In that regard, he's just like Milo from the last book. But Omar has someone who believes in him so I suspect things are going to work out for him a lot better than they did for Milo. I think boys need that. I think, at the end of the day, boys are highly motivated by girls and I think that's just the most beautiful thing. We're right to be careful with them.
So the hair. I thought elegant side swept bangs were the way to go. Then, like forty five minutes later, (Because A would not stop talking. I mean it was non-stop. And then she would drop everything to act out different parts of the stories she was telling me. Crazy.) there was all of this hair on the floor and I was sitting there looking like the kind of gal who rides around on a Harley with her girlfriend Big Marge perched on the back. I don't know what she was thinking. It's like this grown out mullet type of thing. It's like Joan Jett circa 1981. But don't worry about it. I've got a big gig at CBGB tonight so it's actually kind of perfect.
Obviously I'm not really going to whine about my hair. Not with like a gazillion gallons of oil leaking into The Gulf. Clearly there are bigger issues in the world. Someone might want to mention that to Barack. I appreciate his even tempered, collaborative nature, but we're kind of having an emergency here. He might want to skip the fundraiser in California and try doing something vaguely leadershipy in The Gulf region. And don't even get me started with MMS. Maybe you could write your Congresspeople about it. Mine don't pay any attention to me.
Hey, let's talk about Parenthood. The season finale was so great. I just watched it last night. I was so excited that Mr Cyr was coming back. He was only in one scene, but what a scene. I think I've played it back about six times. Can you imagine anything in the whole world more romantic than being in a library with a messy haired, sparkly eyed boy and having him say to you sweetly and earnestly I don't think that you should leave. Please don't leave. Kill me. Just kill me right now. Other good things happened, too, but they pale in comparison to Mr Cyr and Sarah in the library. I hope he's back next season. If he comes back next season maybe I'll even learn his first name.
I guess that's it for me. OK. OK. We'll do it one more time...
I don't think that you should leave. Please don't leave.
I know!
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