Squeaky Squeaky

I love Saturday mornings. I love getting up with only personal tasks on my agenda. The sun is shining brilliantly today (as it usually does in AZ) and as I breathed in the fresh crisp air this morning I set my sights on cleaning.

I never, ever had an affinity for cleaning until I met my old college roommate Kate. She showed me the joy that is having a clean, well-arranged living space. Our apartment is in a relatively new complex where the floors are level, the appliances new, and the cobwebs non-existent. This is big for a girl who was previously living in an house built in 1800 where everything needed to be fixed or scrubbed all the time. Here there is only one layer of dust and it's dust that belongs solely to us.

In this I find pleasure. I so enjoyed putting in Fiona Apple's new CD, blasting "Extraordinary Machine" and scrubbing the shit out of my kitchen, vacuuming under the couch we've only had for a month, scouring the toilet, and making the bed. It's so much easier to get results here. After just 3 glorious hours of organizing, arranging, and dusting our little love abode sparkles just as it did when we moved in.

This afternoon I'm getting my hair cut (please pray for me). I have sever hair cut anxiety which is why I only do it about once or twice a year. EVERYTIME I get my long brown hair cut I tell my stylist that I hate layers and that I don't want them. Each and every time I walk out of the salon with a sickening layered do that requires a blow dryer and a hair straightener to keep it manageable. Even in that manageable state I hate the look. It's just not me!

So, I'm going into this new salon with an open mind. We'll see what comes of it. It's been ages since I chopped my hair last and it's way too long right now, like past my boobs long. Let's hope this wide canvas will give my stylist some room to give me a decent do.