avocado8

New Haircut, and Bread in the Water Line

On Saturday night we finally got our water turned back on at the house, though Plumber #2 warned us to "watch out for bread in the line." Apparently he'd plugged the various pieces of copper tubing with bits of squished-up white bread to keep dirt from getting in the line. Of course, now there was *bread* in the line, and I'm not sure that that's any better. It certainly wasn't for the kitchen faucet, which clogged immediately; my husband had to get under there with a water jug and flush all the bread out before we could use the sink.

While he was busy doing that (and calling me out to turn the faucet on from time to time), I was busy in the bathroom, having a hair crisis. Usually I cut my own hair—until it's time for a completely new style, in which case I book a flight to Baltimore to see my sister and an appointment at Hugo Salon to see Toni. I'd been talking about getting a new cut for a couple weeks, but I didn't get on the stick quick enough before I had a hair meltdown.

Basically, I was standing in the bathroom after taking a (blessed-after-two-days-without-water) shower, and the thought of having to dry the overbleached birdsnest of a mop on my head made me run for the scissors. I shouted to Al that I was going to cut my hair (one last chance to stop me) as I combed my overlong bangs forward, and when he shouted "OK!" back, I started cutting. It took a few tries to get it looking like an intentional cut rather than an accidental butchering, and it still doesn't look as clean as Toni would make it, but it'll do for now. At least I don't have to blow-dry it anymore, or tuck a huge swath of bangs behind my ear. The spikes of the 90s are back, baby!