Sunday, March 09, 2008
Rolling with the punches
This weekend I:
-Placed a carry-out order from a Thai restaurant that I thought was on my way home from the gym, and only realized when I was walking to pick up my order that the restaurant I was thinking of was not the restaurant I had ordered food from. And, in fact, the restaurant I had ordered food from was several miles away. Which meant I had to walk back to my apartment, get in my car and drive to the other restaurant (Al Gore hates me), where they were pretty much just sitting around, wondering if I was ever going to show up and get my food. Oh, and all of this was taking place in the pouring rain. Good times. At least my food was still warm when I finally got it home. Thank God for Styrofoam (Al Gore really hates me).
-Wore my beloved Frye boots to a bar on the Hill, where they were complimented by the bouncer (yay!) but then accidentally doused with beer (boo!). At least I had weatherproofed them prior to the beer spillage (rain, snow, beer--it's all liquid, right?), and therefore they survived pretty much intact. You can still see the faint outline of the beer stain, but I've decided that this battle scar (and others surely to come) will give them character.
-Did not give myself enough time between my Pilates class and hair appointment today to get to the salon via Metro. Being late for the appointment was not an option, as the salon cancels your appointment and charges you the full fee if you're more than 15 minutes late. So I decided to drive (Al Gore hates me even more). Unfortunately, I made this decision after I'd already walked to the Metro and spent 5 minutes standing on the platform, debating the feasibility of various transportation scenarios, and so my stupidity cost me $1.35. But that's much better than the $38 I would've been out had I missed my hair appointment. (The driving allowed me to arrive right on time--after I spent 10-15 minutes circling the neighborhood, cursing and trying to find a parking spot, that is.)
-Spent most of my Sunday afternoon throwing a Top Model-esque fit about my new haircut, which is not what I asked for at all. Until I realized that the haircut I got this time is actually the haircut I asked for last time and didn't get -- the Thai prison haircut I've been coveting for about a year. I can now say, though, that I'm glad I didn't get thrown in a Thai prison, because this haircut doesn't look nearly as good on me as it did on Claire Danes. Also, I really need to find a salon where they'll actually give me the haircut I ask for, although I'm beginning to realize that getting a good cut for a reasonable price in this town is damn near impossible.
This weekend I:
-Placed a carry-out order from a Thai restaurant that I thought was on my way home from the gym, and only realized when I was walking to pick up my order that the restaurant I was thinking of was not the restaurant I had ordered food from. And, in fact, the restaurant I had ordered food from was several miles away. Which meant I had to walk back to my apartment, get in my car and drive to the other restaurant (Al Gore hates me), where they were pretty much just sitting around, wondering if I was ever going to show up and get my food. Oh, and all of this was taking place in the pouring rain. Good times. At least my food was still warm when I finally got it home. Thank God for Styrofoam (Al Gore really hates me).
-Wore my beloved Frye boots to a bar on the Hill, where they were complimented by the bouncer (yay!) but then accidentally doused with beer (boo!). At least I had weatherproofed them prior to the beer spillage (rain, snow, beer--it's all liquid, right?), and therefore they survived pretty much intact. You can still see the faint outline of the beer stain, but I've decided that this battle scar (and others surely to come) will give them character.
-Did not give myself enough time between my Pilates class and hair appointment today to get to the salon via Metro. Being late for the appointment was not an option, as the salon cancels your appointment and charges you the full fee if you're more than 15 minutes late. So I decided to drive (Al Gore hates me even more). Unfortunately, I made this decision after I'd already walked to the Metro and spent 5 minutes standing on the platform, debating the feasibility of various transportation scenarios, and so my stupidity cost me $1.35. But that's much better than the $38 I would've been out had I missed my hair appointment. (The driving allowed me to arrive right on time--after I spent 10-15 minutes circling the neighborhood, cursing and trying to find a parking spot, that is.)
-Spent most of my Sunday afternoon throwing a Top Model-esque fit about my new haircut, which is not what I asked for at all. Until I realized that the haircut I got this time is actually the haircut I asked for last time and didn't get -- the Thai prison haircut I've been coveting for about a year. I can now say, though, that I'm glad I didn't get thrown in a Thai prison, because this haircut doesn't look nearly as good on me as it did on Claire Danes. Also, I really need to find a salon where they'll actually give me the haircut I ask for, although I'm beginning to realize that getting a good cut for a reasonable price in this town is damn near impossible.
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