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Cold weather, Cold soup, Cold bitch...
 Brrr: This weekend was unusually chilly for the end of June, which was kind of disappointing. To top that off, I was subjected to a bowl of Vichyssoise (cold potato & leek soup, which I actually enjoyed) and as usual, I had to endure a late Friday afternoon rant from my cold bitch of a boss. She called me into her office to tell me that she'd heard I'd been interested in another position within the company and that she would never recommend me for it. Considering the fact that no one likes her there, I should have thanked her. The bitch then proceeded to cut to shit every line I had written for the employee newsletter I'm responsible for. Most of her "advice" about my writing, was stuff my journalism instructor would have cringed at: I shouldn't start a paragraph with quote marks; I should always explain that the person is commenting before the actual quote and I should never list people's titles with their names because, according to her, all 300 employees know the titles of everyone at head office. My favourite bit of advice was this though: re-write and/or make up people's quotes. She said I should always change what people say to make a story "read better". I told her I was taught that changing people's quotes was totally unethical. She said she always changed people's quotes because it was "the professional thing to do". 
While she was ranting and raving about my terrible writing skills, I started to envision the scene from Swimming With Sharks, where Guy (Frank Whaley) ties his horribly abusive boss Buddy Ackerman (Kevin Spacey) to a chair and proceeds to cut off pieces of his hair, give him paper cuts on his face and scalp and then pours condiments like Lee & Perrins and vinegar all over his head. That actually made me smirk a little while she was yelling at me. It seems fitting that as I ate my cold soup on a cold Saturday afternoon a day later, I remembered one of my favourite sayings: Revenge is a dish best tasted cold. I have the feeling it'll be delicious...
Have you ever cut your own hair?
 Viggo no more: My son has refused a haircut for months because he's been trying to grow it long "like "Aragorn."
However, the past week we've been doing lots of crafts and he keeps saying he wants to cut his own hair with his Crayola scissors. While I prepared lunch yesterday, Mini Whe took out a big chunk of hair at the front, right to the scalp. I had to turn my head to hide my disappointment that his beautiful, blond hair would need to be shaved down to match the missing patch. It's funny how I had such an emotional reaction to it, despite months of trying to convince my son to cut his hair.  I kept reminding myself of the time Elecampane's daughter did the same thing. It must be so much worse for a little girl. When you are a prepubescent girl with short hair, anytime you wear something remotely unisex, people assume you're a guy.
At the haircutting place that evening, I explained to the hairdresser that we wanted to salvage as much hair as possible. Because the patch was so short, we're talking millimeters here. "Would you like me to keep the length in back?" she asked cautiously. I've got to admit I was a little offended she would suggest a mullet. He now has a short do with a bald patch that will hopefully fill in a bit in a week or so. But I guess he'll have to wait until puberty before he looks remotely like Aragorn. In the meantime, we'll settle for this.
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