Doorman: “What’s that?”
Me: “It’s a newfound skip in my step, thanks to the defeat of Trump-supported child-molester Roy Moore, the win of a competent Democrat in deep-red Alabama, and a restored faith in humanity!”
Doorman: “No, that. On your face.”
Me: “Oh. That is chocolate.”
Doorman: “It’s 8:30am.”
Me: “I’M CELEBRATING.”
I thought cutting off all my own hair, alone and by myself, while listening to Kesha’s “Praying” would be super therapeutic (and it was! For exactly 5 seconds), since the only other time I cut my own hair was in the middle of the night when I was 6, after which I promptly blamed my brother, so I never got to really bask in the glory of my work.
Newsflash: There is no glory. I look very very bad.
Turns out there is a reason hair dressers do this for you. One reason is that THEY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE DOING. Another reason is that they have a straight angle, and can therefore cut the hair evenly. As you can see in the haphazard-looking nubs above the hair bands, I did not accomplish this. It looks like someone cut my hair with a samurai sword.
The good news is that some child, through the nonprofit Children With Hair Loss, will receive a lovely 11-inch wig, which is a small price to pay for me looking like a gnome.
Now, Jose at Aveda Salon, you better hold on to your hat. Our appointment today will be more therapy than haircut.
#iwasonlysupposedtocut8inches #oops #shorthair
dontcarefreakingthefuckout #shorthairDONTDOTHISATHOME (oh, you would never do this at home, because you’re smart and rational? HOW NICE FOR YOU.)
As I’m leaving an hour-long tutoring session…
Kid (to her mom): “Mom, you always say I have to take those off (points to nape of my neck) but Miss Emily didn’t!!”
Me (confused): “Wait, what?”
Parent: “Something tells me Miss Emily did not know it was there. And I was going to try to let her leave without embarrassing her, but I guess that’s not happening now.” (opens drawer, grabs scissors, cuts this off my sweater and hands it to me):
Dear Apple Inc.,
Your iPhone product sucks. 50% of the time I go to use the Touch ID login, it doesn’t work. WTF? I thought you guys were supposed to be some kind of wizard geniuses.
Our data suggests that 95% of the time your Touch ID fails, it is due to the exorbitant amount of egg salad on your thumb. This egg salad obstruction impedes the device from accurately scanning your print. We are certain that if you learn to eat like a human, this will no longer be a problem.
Dear Apple Inc.,
Forks are for losers and a true lady eats her cold deli salads with a potato chip utensil, but I suppose I see your point re: the obstruction. I still think the technology should be sophisticated enough to scan through food or any other thick layer of grime that might be on my hand at any given moment.
You need more help than we here at Apple Inc. are qualified to provide.
Good luck in life,
Me: “Did you hear about Cam Jansen’s super sexist comment?”
Eric: “You mean Cam Newton?”
Me: “Whatever, yeah. It was absurd– a female reporter asked him a question about the game, and he responded being like ‘It’s funny to hear a girl talk about paths.’ Like a girl couldn’t possibly know about wide receiver paths?!”
Eric: “You mean routes?”
Sometimes you have to whip out your phone and pretend-talk into it to avoid a sidewalk encounter with your former boss and that does NOT make you a child.
Did you know that if you accidentally shoot yourself in the eye with a waterpik on full blast, you will pop blood vessels?
What’s that? No? Because why would that ever happen to you? Because you’d never press the “on” button before putting the device in your mouth, particularly if it’s pointed at your eyeball? Because who points a waterpik at their eyeball? Because you pay attention to the things you do as you’re doing them? Because you’re generally able to complete daily life tasks without risking your life? Because even a monkey can use a waterpik without injury, and you’re smarter than a monkey?
Well HOW NICE FOR YOU.