I have never really liked Kate Gosselin. Ive envied her organization and her ambition to clean (on her knees scrubbing the floor daily?!) but she's always treated her husband like one of the kids, but worse. That's always kind of irritated me. Apparently it hasn't sat too well with him either, because they're getting divorced now. On this week's episode she was all splotchy-faced and tear-streaked saying she didn't want it, and he said how he was excited because it's a new chapter in his life and he's only 32. Funny how I now hate him.
I hate haircuts. For one thing, I have really fucked up hair. I have enough hair for 3 people, so if i cut it short it poofs out horribly and when it's long it's like wearing a sweater down my back. And also, it's wavy at the bottom but it's so heavy that it pulls itself straight at the top, so I look like I have a perm growing out but I don't. I don't think I've ever really gotten a good haircut, just varying degrees of bad, and now I have to go get another one tomorrow, to try to fix a terrible one I got last week. Get this: I told the lady (no names, to protect my ass) I wanted maybe 2 inches cut off and she said "Nope, not what I'm doing" and cut off about 5 inches, then told me she had compromised. And when it poofed, she blamed my shampoo; it seems I need more moisture to avoid a consequence I told her would come to pass. And the left side is longer than the right and it's shorter in the front than in the back and I want to cry because it's going to take at least a year to grow back out and . . . .
I have a high school reunion coming up. I should be completely past it since my high school career was just one embarrassment after another, but I'm all Romy and Michelle about it and now I'm carrying 30 pounds of baby weight AND I have a bad hair cut, but I'm wondering also what I will wear. I don't really have good clothes, certainly nothing to impress anyone in. I have one pair of jeans and a few tops, and ill-fitting nursing bras. But since I thrive on worry, this will do for the summer, at least after tomorrow's haircut.
Tommy turns one in August. I have to plan a birthday party. I don't want to; I want him to still be my little baby. He started walking last week. I need a new one. Hey, maybe I'm knocked up already! That'll help me explain the flab at the reunion. But then i won't be able to drink the pain away while jackasses reminisce about that time I walked the entire length of the freshman hallway with my skirt in the back of my underwear. Ahh, good times.