Wednesday, December 14, 2005


I predict that this time tomorrow my husband will have killed me. Or, at the very least, he's going to be very, very angry with me. I have an appointment to get my hair cut at 2 tomorrow.

I've never really understood what it is with men and long hair. I vividly remember from my childhood my mom getting fed up with washing and combing my long hair and hauling me off to the beauty shop. I'd emerge looking like a little boy. My dad would come home from work and just give her one of those looks that could wither the heartiest of souls. He loved me having long hair. So mom would let it grow out again until she got tired of it. I guess that set the stage for my own adult treatment of my hair.

J is the same as my dad: he gets upset every time I get it trimmed, much less cut. So I just told him that I'm going out for a while tomorrow afternoon and I need him to watch the Little Miss. It is driving him absolutely nuts trying to figure out what I'm up to. That's probably going to make him that much angrier when he sees what I've done. Oh well.

I guess I've entered another 2 week wait. There's a chance that we hit the fertile days if I ovulated on or after the day I've been ovulating. I hate waiting!

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