Hair cuts and cat stories

May 24, 2007

I’m getting my hair cut this evening, which is long over due anyone around me will tell you. My hair gets a little unruly when it gets longer, all mean and shouting obscenities at people. It’s a little embarrassing. I have to apologize to people I don’t know, “Sorry, it’s my hair.”

Driving in this morning I could see this guy in the car next to me staring at my hair. He nearly ran into a Buick. Then my hair flipped him the bird.

The in laws are visiting for a couple days which is good because cat #1 has been acting far too normal lately. She gets a little weird when people come over, I guess it’s such a rare occurrence that she gets a little shaken. It’s like she thinks there are only two people in the entire world, and when we show her that her math is a bad, she goes a little nuts.

She’s just misunderstood.

There was one time I went to pick her up at the veterinarian, after she’d been spayed. I tell the happy lady at the front desk I’m there to pick up Aiden the cat. It was like her face left the happy fields of la-la land, and walked straight into a David Lynch movie. No lie, she says to me “Oh, that one. You’ll have to come to the back to pick her up.” They wouldn’t go near her. I go into the back to get her, and she’s all scared, and who wouldn’t be after having strangers cut out your ovaries. I pat her head, and she hugs me, and cries a little cry, it’s all wonderful and she’s safe now. I turn around, and the staff are all huddled together in a corner, brandishing brooms and other impromptu implements of protection. The receptionist looks like she might cry. I take a step towards them to ask what’s going on and they all run screaming from the room.

It’s the same reaction I get right before a hair cut.