I got up extra early this morning to choose an outfit and do my makeup.
Those who know me know I rarely wear makeup to work, and I don't spend a lot of time on my outfits. Half the time I choose the nearest, cleanest thing and sprint out the door. OK, more than half the time.
I do if I have big meetings or am going out for lunch or going out after work. But usually I don't bother. It's a combination of rolling out of bed as late as possible, the fact that my workplace is not dressy.
So this morning, when I actually went to the effort of putting on concealer and eyeliner and mascara, Nick was all, "Wow! You changed your makeup! It looks great!"
When actually the change was makeup. And a cute outfit.
So my boss also complimented me on how I look today, and asked if I'm going out tonight. Do I have an event?
Absolutely I have an event. I'm getting my hair done. I am terrified of winding up with frumpy hair. You have to look as cute as possible when you go to the salon. I have said this before and it's endlessly true.
They do your hair the way they think you are. Frumpy? They'll frump your hair. Trendy? Cute trendy hair.
Also, I want him to think my opinion can be trusted. That I have taste that shouldn't be overridden. Because this happens, you know.
I get really nervous on salon days. Some people find it relaxing. I find it very stressful. I have wound up with some crazy-ass short hair. With surprise bangs. With color I hated.
I invariably wind up with it at least a little shorter than I want. Usually this is fine with me. But not always, and not right now.
So the last time I went to the salon a friend had given me the following advice: "Say you want wedding hair. Nobody fucks around with wedding hair."
I said, "Hey! Big news! I got engaged!"
He was the first person to say out loud, "Wow, that was really fast."
So after we discussed the fastness of it I said, "So I'm getting married in September. And I want wedding hair."
He knew exactly what I was talking about.
He trimmed it as little as possible, and gave me conservative blonde highlights.
It turns out wedding hair = long hair. And it seems to be true - nobody fucks around with wedding hair.
So "wedding hair" is my phrase of the afternoon. And I'm going to touch up my makeup before I go.