Then I'll say something pithy, and the music will swell and the credits will roll.

Love it!

"Coming this fall, Goo Monster XXVI, in Living Technicolour! Will our plucky heroine vanquish the fiends of phlegm ONCE AND FOR ALL?"

Well, we love you both, want you both to be happy, and will stay out of it.

Fourthing. And, gah, I'm so sorry. That's really too much to contend with all at once, and yet you're both doing it so gracefully.

Now I have to go glare extra-hard at Kat's mom and the extra-awful timing of her teenage flouncing.

Hmm. I don't think Technicolour is a word.

Off to the worky thingy.

I'm getting my hair cut after work. I don't know what I'm going to do, other than make it shorter.

Hmm. I don't think Technicolour is a word.

It's probably a brand name, which doesn't explain Mr. Lloyd Webber's usage.

I don't bow to Websterized spelling on nowt, me lass.

I wanna get new hair before SF, but I can't figure out when I can go. Maybe next Thursday. Just a trim and a color touch up, because she really did a good job last time, but I want to be perfect for my SFistas.

JZ, thanks so much for the box of clothes. I hope we'll use them soon.

I'm coming in a little late on this, but Kat, I guess I'm dumb at reading between lines, or maybe I've just been focusing all my vibeage on the babies -- I'm wishing both you and Lori happiness.

Yeah, that's why I'm so grumpy this morning. The SO was taking the bus in to the studio for his lessons today so that I could go get my hair cut. He mistakenly already did that on Tuesday, which I appreciated, but it was unhelpful.

I woke up when he stumbled out at nothing o'clock, but fell back asleep. Then twenty minutes later he was back. The bus, on its first run, was over ten minutes early. Which means in our small town that it was now going the wrong direction and wouldn't be headed back the right direction for an hour.

Which meant that I had to get up at nothing-thirty to take him in. And now I'm all grouchy and irritable and haven't had my coffee. And I'm breaking in a new stylist today. I asked for someone who was comfortable doing extreme styles, and they gave me who was standing there, who said something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, I do lots of teenagers."

Which at 31, I was all, umm. But I went with it, because I'm going to want to dye it blue at some point, and evidently only teenagers do that sort of thing. But at least she's seen the movie and likes the cut (Aeon, still) so hopefully I won't get another fucking angled bob.

Oh yeah, and then I was going to run up to the land for a few minutes since I had a few hours to spare. But the SO didn't give the dog his antibiotic this morning, so I had to come back to the house to give it. Yeah, cranky.

I should just go out and buy an expensive coffee, huh? That would make me feel better and help me manage my time before the cut so I'm not just idling.