Who had the bright idea of running a mile, in a lightning storm, while wearing strappy sandals? Me (I've only seen mud that bloody this one time Mom killed a pig in Mexico)!
Who had the bright idea of hiking an abandoned CATTLE trail? Me, of course!
(You can't tell, but everyone in that picture pretty much looked like the girl in the orange shorts... although my little sister was laughing for a huge part of it because she'd almost pee her pants each time one of us slipped. I kept the expression on the girl in the orange shorts because it's priceless to me. Also, it's not visible from the angle, but a little to the left of the picture is a huge drop from the mountain to a river with jagged rocks... that was fun)Who went on a camping trip to the Sierra Madre Occidental mountain range in Durango, Mexico (Ajua! I had to add that in there)... 2 hours on horseback... in a tank top and booty shorts? Me!! (NEVER again wearing booty shorts... I don't give a fuck how much money they pay me. The sun burn wasn't cool either)
Those are only a few bad examples (I say I was under the influence of Mexico, each of these scenarios took place there in the late 1990's-early 2000's), but today I managed to add another thing to my "Mistakes" list.
I didn't start cutting my hair short until 2003 (horrible breakup... went all crazy... cut my hair up in hopes of "putting everything in the past" yada yada yada). Somehow, it has become an addiction... especially recently after discovering the bob.
I had no problem with this addiction because my "hair-stylist" is also my childhood friend/second-cousin. She's always had a good eye when it comes to chopping off hair... so I trusted her with my head.
This cousin of mine, while I do love her and all that, tends to enjoy pushing my buttons (she's known how ever since we first met in 1987). She's kinda... sorta... rude, and she thinks it's the funniest thing since Carlos Mencia (eww... I hate that man) to be like that.
Well, today she pushed me a little too far, and she touched upon one of my "sensibilities" (that's what I get for making fun of BH yesterday on this damn blog. Stupid karma). It went down like this:
(Second-cousin's cutting my hair, little sister's sitting on the chair next to me, and no one else is in the building. It was something like 1:30 pm)
Little Sister: Hey, what did I get you for your birthday this year?
Me: Nothing... besides that cake you ate (she ate my favorite part--all of it-- then pulled the whole "Who bought this cake?!" deal and told me "I could eat as much of it as I want to!" when I bitched and said I wasn't going to touch the cake anymore. We have the coolest fights ever, don't we?)
Little Sister: Oh yeah... that was good. But hey... I can't get you a good, expensive present every year.
Me: ???
Who the hell ever complained? Is she about to brag?
Little Sister: Yeah... I can't go off buying you 300 dollar present every year, like this i-Pod from last year.
Yep... she sure did brag... douche.
Second-cousin: You bought her that?
Shit... why did I bring that fucking i-Pod?!
Little Sister: Yeah, then Older Brother got butt-hurt because I never got him anything for his birthday.
Second-cousin: has he ever gotten you anything?
LS: No. But I still felt guilty. So I got him a video i-Pod.
Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
LS: Then AnoMALIE got ass-hurt because I got her a Nano... and hers can't hold as many songs as Older Brother's.
Me: I did? When?!
You little bitch... when the hell did that happen?!
LS: You were like "My i-Pod can't hold as many songs as Older Brother's! I hate it!"
Me: I did?! I never said that! That his i-Pod holds more songs than mine, it does... by a long shot! But I NEVER complained!
LS: No, you did... to my Mom!
Me: No! She told me you felt bad about getting Older Brother a more expensive i-Pod than you did me... and that you thought I'd get all offended. Why the hell would I complain over a gift?! The most I ever gave you was a ceramic picture holder I did back in 11th grade Ceramics Class! I can't afford anything!
(By this time I've feeling woozy in the chair from all the built up frustration with my bragging little sister)
Second-cousin: What AnoMALIE needs to do is get a job!
Oh. Hell. No. You did not just go there.
I sat still... and tried to calm myself down. Keyword: Tried.
Me: No. AnoMALIE doesn't need to get a job.
SC: Yes. She does.
Me: No. Not with my school schedule. I can get a job when I graduate.
SC: You should have gotten a job two years ago!
(My head is buzzing by now... but I think twice about getting up and slapping her because no matter how discombobulated I become, I still remember she's holding some sharp scissors)
Me: No. If that would have happened, I would have been taking two extra years to graduate.
SC: Damn! You're fucking... slow!
Me: No. Not with my major.
SC: What, look at me, I've had a job the entire time I've been in college and I'm still graduating in time.
You go to fucking community college!
Me: Yeah. But I'm a bio major... and...
SC: So... I needed to take the same amount of classes as you... and I could still hold a job.
You fucking, stupid bitch... I'm going to kill you.
Me: Dude... I came into college with 15 credits to my name!
Oh.. I guess bragging runs in the family
SC: Daaaamn! And you're still this slow?!
Fuck. I'll quit that bragging shit right now
Me: Look... some people can handle working and school, I can't. You're an education major... I'm a bio major. It just didn't work out like that for me.
SC: Because you're spoiled and lazy.
Fuck this! She dropped the S word.
Me: No! I'm not! If I would have majored in Education I would have finished in two years! Community ain't shit to the University (and that's SAD)... Education is not anywhere near as difficult as Biology! Don't you compare my shit to yours.
SC: Oooo... AnoMALIE can get mad!
(She pushed my head down and started cutting at the back of my hair)
Me: I'm sick of hearing this shit! What are you going to be doing for the rest of your life? Cutting crack-addicts' hair and yawning all day long at SuperCuts? I'm going to Med School (no, I'm not, but I'll lie when angry)! If Biology is so easily done, why didn't YOU major in it?!
(Silence)
The haircut continued... people walked in... sister got her hair done... we paid and we left.
As Little Sister drove away (like a maniac, I must add), I was still fuming at the ears. Instead of heading straight home, we dropped by Mom and Dad's work place to let Mom take a break and buy some food for herself (poor lady... working amongst all those weirdo truckers for so long on an empty stomach). It had been a while since the haircut, so now my hair was air-dry.
Mom: You... cut your hair?
Me: Yes...
This little exchange made me worry. I walked over to the bathroom and saw my hair.
Never... ever, ever... anger your hair-stylist DURING a haircut.
I look like I belong in the made-for-TV-movie of The Great Gatsby.
Bitch made me look like a 1920's Flapper!
I'm not Christina Aguilera... I don't wanna be Back to Basics... I want to be AnoMALIE, girl with the longish-shortish hair! Shit, right now I'd even accept this hair I rocked back in 1987:
Ladies and Gentlemen... my hair is f.u.c.k.e.d.I'd post pictures... but I've tried so hard to fix it... re-cutting it and stuff... and crying a little bit... and visiting other, closer-related cousins to try and solve my problem... but I've mostly cried. I'm kind of a wreck.
That's the last time I ever lose my temper while submitted to someone who can fuck up my image.
Why don't I just try to piss off a chick that's holding a bottle of Nitric Acid next time...
3 comments:
That's a hard lesson to learn. While we're on the subject, here are a few other people you should never piss off:
- Your waiter/waitress or the kitchen staff, unless of course you want them to spit in your food.
- Your mechanic, unless you want to have to replace every replaceable part on your car, whether you need to or not.
I could probably think of some others, but I'm lazy.
Ooh! Don't let your barber hear that (you're lazy)... he might think he's smarter than you (maybe not... that's probably only true with this cousin of mine who didn't care about screwing me over).
I learned the thing about the waiters the hard way... but through no fault of my own (someone else in my party was being rude, but somehow only MY food was the one spit on).
Dude, if you're not at church.. or when you're done, come to michelle's birthday. I'll buy you a drink. Besides, flappers are awesome- women's right and stuff.
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