Operation Mini-Skirt Status: -39.6 lbs.
Mood: I'm rather proud of myself...
... and here's why...
I spent SEVEN FREAKING HOURS in a mall today!
I took a holiday today. Even though I just got back from my English vacation, like, an hour ago, I still had two vacation days to use up before the end of the year. And really, why should I lose them? Right? So, anyway, because I really wanted to enjoy my day off, I stayed at work 'til almost nine last night, beavering away at all the insanity that I've allowed to build up on my desk over the last few weeks. (Months, actually, if you want to know the pitiful truth.)
I got into the mall at ten this morning; armed with a list, comfortable shoes, and a debit card at the ready. First thing I did, on a complete whim, was go to the hair salon to see if my darling Victor had an opening that day.
"We just had a cancellation for... how's four-thirty?" I did some calculations... six hours... 12 people for whom to buy... a break for lunch... wasted, meandering time while I look in vain for a beautiful pair of black leather boots that will soothe my aching soul... "Yeah, 4:30 will do just nicely, thank you."
People, do you know, I did really well. It's the sixth of December, and I can safely say that I've got over 80% of my Christmas shopping done. I think this is the best I've ever done! And I got the funkiest haircut on Earth!
I cut off all my hair!
It's gone! Granted, it wasn't that long in the first place... but I've gone from a shoulder-length, pseudo-Farrah look, to a cute and flippy Meg-Ryan-in-French Kiss look. (Except that I'm a brunette, but so was she in that movie, for two inches from the roots.)
So that was my day. Ooh... here's something...
There's this bloke I know...
He's been... er... well... leering at me lately, to be honest with you. Frankly, if this is his idea of flirtation, he needs to buy a book or something. (Is it because of my rapidly shrinking arse? Is that it? Is that why the looks all of a sudden?) Anyway, I always want to ask him if I've got something on my hair, or if he's got something in his eye or...something! You know? Like, it's... a little weird. He's not a bad guy... in fact, he's quite good-looking, and every once in a while, he even makes for a charming conversationalist. But...
Yesterday he opened up a little, and admitted that he thought we had a connection.
People, we don't have a connection.
We don't have a connection! I mean, we're so far from a connection, connection is a dot to us. I think he thinks we have a connection 'cuz I blush a little bit, and am obviously flattered every time he sends a glance my way. Granted, I'm a sucker for attention. I'm not gonna turn down an audience, even if it's an audience of one... but, I ask you... is that a connection? No? See, I didn't think so either.
He said I'm hard to read.
I'm hard to read? Mare-Ingenii, hard to read? My face is like a bloody open book! If it's in my head, it's on my face, to anyone that has known me for more than an hour, anyway. I can't even tell a lie properly. Honestly, I think that is the first time anyone has ever said something like that to me. (He obviously doesn't read this thing, for which I'm eternally grateful.)
So, yeah. There it is. A bit of a mystery. It's nothing that's pressing too firmly on my brain mind you, but a curious thing anyway. Is he interested, or is he just pulling my chain? If he is interested, is it just for a shag, or will I get a meal or two out of the deal? Between you and me, I think he's bored and looking for someone's mind to play with.
Out of luck, ain't he? My mind is otherwise occupied at the moment...
Going out tomorrow night. Maybe tonight, too. I've got to show off this darling new haircut! Ooh... and I can wear my new gray sweater... (for the record, that is what my mind is occupied with these days... It's all about me, baby.
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