This was mainly going to be a post about my new haircut until I remembered that it was Guilty Pleasures week over at The Collective, and I figured that the two things would work well together. After all, is a $50 haircut for a person technically living under the poverty line justifiable in any universe? I don’t really think so.
Funny story about my haircut. I’m pretty conservative when it comes to hair, mostly because it is the one thing that I am openly vain about. There are a variety of reasons behind the origin of this vanity — most of them having to do with high school — and all of them boil down to one thing: I didn’t have good hair until I was twenty-one years old. After that, my hair became a new toy. I grew it super-long, I curl it, I wave it, I wear it straight. People envy me. My roommates threaten to chop it off in my sleep. It should probably be considered a sin how much I love my hair.
With that said, because I love it so much, I rarely do anything drastic to it, it’s always trims and tiny adjustments. Which is why today I decided to throw caution to the wind — except that’s a lie because it was totally an accident. My hairdresser, Giancarlo, speaks with a heavy accent and sometimes I have a hard time understanding him. He was mumbling something about layers and faces and I was tired and distracted so I said, just to get him to shut up: “Sure. Do whatever you want. I trust you.” And I do trust him, for good reason. The man is a genius. He and his tight, homosexual Italian pants can do whatever they want as far as I’m concerned. So he says, “Oh, you shouldn’t do that!” Anyway, I ended up with bangs for the first time since I was six years old. That was almost twenty years ago (oh my God). I even came through the process relatively un-traumatized. Once I realized what he was doing to me, I had a moment of hot-flashing panic, but then it went away. Hey, the picture (↑) is proof; I just hope I don’t regret it come morning when I no longer have any idea how to style my hair.
My main problem in life is that I feel no guilt for doing the bad things that I do. I mean it. None whatsoever. I revel in my pleasures. In another life, I probably would have been considered a hedonist. For example, here is a not inconsiderable list of pleasures that I should probably feel guilty about, but don’t: watching 25+ hours of television per week, my shopping addiction, haircuts, watching bad movies in the theater, theater hopping, eating, not exercising, twirling my hair, cussing in front of my students, cussing on the internet, my borderline-stalker sexual attraction for Katee Sackhoff, believing in my heart that fictional people are real, speeding, farting in public, laughing at people when they fall down, buying too many books and then not reading them, not doing my schoolwork, my ability to eat ten cookies in a three minute period, my coffee addiction, feeling superior to dumb people, how all the electricity I use and books that I buy are killing the environment, sour cream and cheddar Ruffles, Mexican breakfast, etc.
But I do feel guilty about fanfic. I don’t want to talk about it.
Ooh, I like it! I’m coming for you.
I’m keeping a knife under my pillow from now on.
I’m not sure which to be more envious of: your hair (super cute, by the way), or the fact that there is a cardboard cut-out of Aragorn lurking in the corner of your room.
He was a birthday present in 2003. He used to scare the shit out of my roommate in the dorms. She kept thinking he was a real man in the middle of the night.
At first, I was all “who the fuck has taken over Ashley’s blog?!” Your bangs look FABULOUS.
Oh, fanfiction.
Also, how early can I get you to wake up on Sunday?
If it’s for breakfast? 9:30.
Positively stunning.
And, if it matters, I support you in all of your bad-deed-doing.
You are an ennabler.
Damn right. That’s why people keep me around.
A. It looks good. I’m hardly the first to tell you that at this point, but I’m guessing one more won’t hurt.
2. I fully agree with not bothering with the guilty part of guilty pleasures.
D. Speaking of fanfic, didn’t you promise in the past to work on Walter/Cow Fringe fanfic?
The Walter/Cow fic is in my drafts section. I’m waiting on an idea. Don’t worry, it’s coming.
Yeah, you’re new hair is awesome.
I also believe in my heart that fictional people are real. I don’t feel guilty about it either.
Someday I WILL marry John Crichton. It will happen.
He’s with Aeryn. Sorry.
It’s called “polygamy” for a reason.
Why would you feel guilty about fanfic? I’ve been writing it for years and I’ve never felt guilty about it. Should I? Oh, God, what have I been doing?
I think my guilt about fanfic actually goes beyond guilt and is something more akin to ‘shame’. If someone walks into a room while I’m reading it I close the window or move to another tab. I would rather be severely injured than let anyone read that one fanfic I wrote.
I think it depends on what *type* of fanfic you read and/or write as well.
I love the hair. Also your list of guilt-free pleasures. I’m just jealous I don’t have enough time right now to rival some of them. (25+ hours of TV a week? Wow. Though I suppose I probably score close to that in online buffoonery. Or “blogging,” as some call it.)
About the 25+ hours of TV: I don’t have a social life (or children under the age of five, as you do) so there’s that.
Sorry I didn’t notice the bangs until you told me “Hey look at my bangs!” I like it. May I cut my super short and die it funky colors? ;)
I’m honored that you don’t change the screen when I walk in on you reading fanfic.
No.
I’m not ashamed of the fanfic thing around you because I know you read just as much (if not worse) crap than I do.
I don’t understand why sour cream makes the non-list. As one of the four food groups, it should only be encouraged.
Oops. I see that you really meant the Ruffles. That’s abhorrent.
New hair: awesome!
Love the cut. You look great!
Thanks!