Bad Hair Day

I've come to the decision that, at least for as long as my hair is this length, I'm never going to leave the house without some kind of elastics and hairbrush again. Yesterday the hubby and I went for a walk, and the inevitable blowing winds at my back ended up shoving my hair in my face the entire time... as seems to happen every time we go out, and yet somehow I'm always unprepared - spitting and cursing, and generally complaining about feeling like Cousin It until it gets me into the mother of all foul moods. Some women can pull of the insouciant, breezy long hair thing without eating a mouthful of it every time they turn to talk - unfortunately, that's not me. Something about the shape of my head, maybe. I've just resigned myself to carrying around the tackle necessary to achieve the unflattering pulled-back-from-skull look as needed - it's about all I can do short of resorting to little-girl bangs or butching it off like I used to. Gah. And I grew it out because I wanted it to look nice, jeez.

And ugh, my neck just made this cracking sound I felt in the back of my mouth. Ouch.

Bring it

Feeling grumpy, but write-y. Sort of. ( About Writing Fiction, and My Two Cents on the BtVS DVD Commentaries )