hate hate hate hate the rain rain rain.

i mean, it's pretty and romantic and all, but there really is nothing delightful about soggy pant bottoms and toes.

and oh the number it does on this hair of mine.

why was i cursed with curls? and not even the pretty bouncy kind, like elizabeth shue in adventures in babysitting. these are the wavy half-assed ones - like ringlets that didn't try hard enough in ringlet class, and so really can't even be called ringlets. just loops of hair, waving in the wind.

today i got my locks lopped yet again - mostly because i am going away for a long time, and want fancy pants hair for my trip. anyhow, the straightening job i got was divine.

glossy, severe, sheer.

and when i had to sheepishly tell my hairdresser that i had no umbrella, he actually said, "i hate you!"

such was the intensity of this straightening.

and so i had to step out into a spitting Saturday and feel (not see, just feel) my hair turning up at the ends. flipping up and in a sense, flipping me and my straight-loving self right off.

i guess my hair is headstrong. which might be the worst joke i have ever written.

and once again, i'll blame it on the rain.

just like milli vanilli did.