Carpe Diem: Haircut Edition

This week, I did something very uncharacteristic. I walked into a salon -- well, more like a SuperCuts -- and asked for a haircut. I conducted minimal research beforehand (only a few guys had reviewed the place on Yelp) and I made NO appointment.

If you're a woman, this is more or less CRAZY.

Things that suck when moving to a new city? Trick question. Many, many things. But among the most annoying are finding a new doctor, a dentist, and a person that cuts your hair. It took me three years to find Camden, my previous stylist in DC, who I stayed with for five and a half years. We used to chat about music and beer and tattoos. I trusted him completely AND I could be myself. 

I knew finding my new Camden would not be easy, so I avoided trying at all. Over Christmas in New Jersey, Alex's sister -- a killer stylist -- kindly gave me a bonafide kitchen cut that tided me over. But five months later, I looked a little rough around the edges and desperately needed a trim. It was finally time for a St. Louis haircut.

Voila! 

Before and after.

First of all, I hate selfies, so forgive my expression. Second, despite chopping off approximately three inches in the middle of the workday, none of my coworkers noticed. They're mostly dudes, but still. They have eyes. Third, I forget why this was a list. Moving on.

My haircut is nothing groundbreaking. I like it, and I liked the woman who cut my hair. I just didn't feel that.... spark, for lack of a better word. Convenience and price were big perks, though, and it felt great to just get a haircut without much fuss. I'll probably go back a second time.

Still, here's my general complaint about getting a haircut. If you're even mildly tomboyish (I am) and you walk into most any salon, you can end up feeling like barely a woman.

"All you do is blow dry your hair?"

"Yup, that's it."

"What products do you use?"

"Shampoo and conditioner."

"Are you, in fact, a woman at all?"

"I think so...?"

That's why I tend to look for places where stylists are tattooed, pierced, and alternative. These people get it.

Yes, I am a woman. No, I only spend 5 minutes "doing" my hair. Now please help me look pretty.

Yes, I Skyped With My Dog

Spencer has not handled my going back to work very well. Our unicorn of a dog -- so well-behaved, so quiet and unfussy -- morphed into an emotional wreck three weeks ago. No matter the length of the walk, the intensity of the run, or the amount of playtime, he cries, howls, and barks when he's left alone. Sometimes he starts out quiet, but inevitably deteriorates into one sad, crying mess of a dog.

I told the guy at the pet store about my problems. I asked Reddit for help. I called a doggie daycare and spoke to a trainer. I was ready to try anything (except for a bark collar), but everything we tried failed AND Spencer was regressing.  

So last weekend, we tried Skype. We call Spencer from our phone or laptop and he "auto answers." You, too, can spy on your dog by setting Skype up as follows:

Voila! Spencer on Skype.

"Where are my moms?!" - Spencer

We're only a few days into using Skype now. It's by no means a cure-all, but man, does takes the edge off our anxiety! We no longer leave the house and wonder if we'll get an angry email from our lawyer friend below. We no longer hope Spencer's not barking. We simply know if he is or isn't by calling him up on with a video call. He can't see us and we tend to leave ourselves on mute, but when he's upset, we try to calm him down with a few words. So far, that's worked amazingly. In combination with our other training and mixing his schedule up with daycare and walks, we hope he'll kick this anxiety for good in the next few weeks.

Am I crazy or am I crazy? 

Don't answer that. We just love the damn dog.