Paper Shredder Update

Still in the living room.

Weight Watchers Week 3

Here's my progress so far:

Week 1: -2 lbs
Week 2: -2.6 lbs
Week 3: -2.2 lbs

Go me! That's 6.8 lbs. The best part is I don't really feel like I'm on a diet. I'm just not denying myself THAT much. To me diets are about starvation, self-deprivation, and cheating. But on WW I have complete control. If I want cheesecake then I can have it, I just have to balance it with the rest of what I eat. There's a big difference between feeling deprived and feeling in control. Plus, how many diets will let you eat McDonalds for lunch (well, now and then) and still lose 2 lbs/week?

I think I've always approached every meal like it's my last. Pizza is definitely something I crave that I find challenging to eat in moderation. One thing a friend said has really been a huge help with that. She said that whatever it is will still be there next time I want it, so just wait.

Sounds simple, right?

One Man's Mess

On Saturday we moved a van and a car load of boxes and stuff into storage, and I rearranged the living room furniture, and cleaned it all up. It looked great.

So my sweet husband, FIRST THING, goes and dumps a load of clean clothes on the couch. Why? I have no idea. He never does this. I know some people keep clothes on the couch, but we just don't.

The next day he went and bought a Sunday paper. He never does this either. He took the whole thing apart, cutting out coupons, leaving sections and clippings all over the couch. Why? It's a mystery.

The NEXT day he decides it's time to shred documents. IN THE LIVING ROOM. He brings in a trash can, 2 boxes of papers, and the shredder. Need I say more?

I am at a complete loss. I don't understand. When we move I have been saying that the living room will be off limits to kids and cats. Now I think I'm going to have to husband-proof it too. If I just don't put a TV or computer in there, that should do it.

I Just Want a Haircut!

Why is it so hard to find a good stylist around here? Everywhere I go I see salons and barbers and spas, but every one I try ends up being crap. Why can't I find a decent stylist that speaks fluent English and doesn't charge an arm and a leg?

What's the etiquette for walking into a salon and discovering your stylist doesn't speak English? Can you say, "Um, I changed my mind," and then leave? Is it rude to call and ask to get an appointment with someone that speaks fluent English? I thought bringing in the pictures of my haircut (from all angles) would bridge that gap, but it didn't.

I got the perfect cut in August last year (while I was home in Idaho). The stylist considered my weight, the shape of my face, my neck, my double chin, the texture of my hair. Everything. And guess how much a wash, cut and style cost? $14. FOURTEEN DOLLARS. I gave her a $20 and felt like I was robbing her.

I got back to Virginia and the first time I needed a cut I went to a fancy salon. For $55 she trimmed maybe a quarter of an inch (my hair had grown at least half an inch), didn't layer, and didn't even style it herself. It looked like crap, it needed to be cut again in 3 weeks.

Last weekend I went to a Hair Cuttery and got a stylist that barely spoke English, but she looked at my pictures, nodding, smiling, yes yes she can do that. After her first cut she showed me that she's taking off a quarter inch. Since I'd already been burned by that once, I told her to make it a tiny bit more. I was clear on this. "Tiny bit more - another quarter inch." Her next cut took off 2 inches. I swear. 2 inches. My hair didn't have 2 inches to spare. It's so short now that not only did my oblivious husband notice I got a cut, but all the guys at work noticed too. Short. Short AND crooked. My hair is doomed.