Blame Canada

I get my hair cut so infrequently I should, by all rights, look like Cousin It off the Addams Family. Instead, it goes all frizzy and split-endsy and I end up throwing back in a plait and forgetting about it. Then the frumpiness gets too much (even for me) and off I go to the scissor-man.

That's what I did today, using up the last of a gift certificate that Joe gave me a year and a half ago (yes, really - that's when I last got my hair cut). The hairdresser didn't bitch about what poor condition my hair was in - in fact, he said it was great for the length. He even liked my fringe. I think it was all genuine and not just for the tip, but I did my part and tipped generously anyway. It's the Canadian way (a lesson for Brits in the hospitality industry - can you spell 'customer service'? You could probably spell it better if everyone else knew how to spell 'tip').

Then I was in a self-pampering mood so I went shopping. Coming out of the mall, though, I realised I'd lost my car. Mall parking lots are so huge that you can wander round for days and not find where you parked. After walking for 15 minutes in the freezing cold I started imagining the headlines ('Budding Journalist Freezes to Death in Parking Lot Horror' - Suzie Chiodo was discovered dead metres from her Chevy Metro. Forensic pathologists, constructing her final moments, believe she died cursing the very mall where she'd just purchased a fabulous v-neck sweater dress and washed out hipster jeans for only 35 pounds).

When I finally found Silver (don't tell me you've never named your car) I was so pleased I hugged him. I guess that's the precise opposite of being a tree-hugger, but I've never been that glad to see a tree.

And now I get to go out with my fab hair and fab clothes and enjoy a brief moment of looking completely presentable. It might even last a few days.

(By the way, the photos for this entry were taken with the camera on my funky new Apple Macbook. Now I can work wherever I want - and take silly photos of stuff. Yay!!)