Day five of NaBloPoMo and not only do I have nothing (interesting, funny, exciting) to report, I also still can't type NaBloPoMo for squat. I don't have any new knitting to show you, and the one picture I took of my socks to say, "Hey look I really did knit!" Well, it looked like the last picture I posted of the socks, so why bother? I didn't get much more knitting done after my airplane knitting, since I spent yesterday working on our guest room.
A few weeks back my husband got a wild hair about the wallpaper in the guest room and decided to rip it all off. It was this thick, textured, almost grassy type stuff that I didn't find too horrible. But apparently he did because, poof! It was gone. Which is great, but the glue behind the wallpaper? Not gone. Also, the walls? In shit ass shape. So for the past few days we have worked and worked and worked. Well, he has worked and worked and worked, I maybe only worked. But we've got the ceiling and the walls cleaned, repaired, primed and painted. Now we are on to the ripping up of the carpet and the removal of tack strips on the floor and then painting the molding. Once that is done we have to clean it up, reload the furniture, and we'll be ready to roll. Which doesn't seem like too much work. But for the fact that the work, it has to be done by Friday because my MiL is coming up on Saturday and going to be staying in there.
I'm sure we'll get the room done in time (I'm not sure at all, I am totally bluffing here), but the real question is, will I get my hair to behave by then? Last week I got my own wild hair and decided that I wanted bangs. I'm not sure what I was thinking. But now I've got em. This whole willy-nilly-I-want-bangs-thing is not unprecedented.
In March of 2006, I gave myself bangs. I had eaten six, yes 6, oatmeal cream patty/cookie Little Debbie things and ended up on a sugar/oatmeal high. A high so diabolical that it seemed totally logical to give myself a haircut. Despite my oatmeal/sugar induced euphoria, I did realize that cutting my own hair, and hacking off six inches or so RIGHT IN THE FRONT might not be the smartest thing to do. So, as a precaution, I cut the bangs about an inch too long. What that extra inch was gonna do as a precaution beats the hell out of me, but that is what I did. I ended up with bangs that rested nicely on my eyeballs.
Remembering this tale of woe, I decided to have a professional cut my hair. And she did a lovely job. A job so lovely that I have a hard time duplicating it. I got the bangs to do right once, on Friday night, which if I had to pick one time not to have them all wonkily curled, was the perfect time being that people were taking pictures and stuff. Every other time, however, they have given me a headache (literally, somehow ten wispy pieces of hair on half of my forehead gave me a headache) and I've eventually pulled them back.
So the big burning question (well questions, as I have two in there) this week will be, can we finish the room, and if so, will it help me get my hair to do right?