Dream Job

Sometimes people think I have an exciting job, based on my job title, which is Landscape Designer if you don't already know. And although I find it fun and rewarding, it is not what most people find exciting.

I go to a lot of municipal public meetings to get feedback about reports I've written. At these meetings people often talk about their taxes, or their sidewalks, or the roof on the civic center, or basically any other topic aside from the one at hand.

Occasionally someone will have actually read the report and will have liked it, which makes it a rewarding night. Mostly people won't have read it, and when they come to gripe about us ignoring some issue or other, it is also rewarding to cut them off and say, "Actually, we discuss that issue at length on pages 15-17."

I dreamt about my job last night. One of those dreams where it's pretty close to reality, except for a few small details.

In this case, I was attending a public meeting about a municipal comprehensive plan at the Town Hall of one of our clients. It was exactly as exciting as actually attending one of these meetings. The only difference between the dream and reality was that after the meeting ended, we started putting away the folding chairs in an enormous annex that the town had built on to their Town Hall. See, they don't have an annex.

I think I actually bored myself awake with that one. Well, the meeting was over, and the chairs were put away, so what point was there in sticking around?

This gift horse had nice teeth.

I went with the Ellen.

Obviously, when I say “I went”, I mean that is the picture I brought to the hair lady. This is also obviously not the haircut I got. However, it looks pretty good, and maybe I shouldn’t be modeling my hair style after a 48-year old lesbian in bright white sneakers. Even if she is dating Portia.

Hair-um Scare-um

Every once in a while, I get fed up with my hairstyle. Sometimes, I wait for the urge to pass. Sometimes, I hop in the car and get a haircut at the nearest convenient location: salon, supercuts, army recruiting station, what have you.

The results, as you might well guess, are unpredictable. I've had some great haircuts and some real corkers. By "Corkers", I mean haircuts so bad that they make squirrels with mange feel better about themselves, quit drinking, and go out and get themselves a proper squirrel job, such as Assistant Nut Hoarder.

The problem is, I have no idea what to ask for once I'm in the salon chair. So when the urge to get a haircut hit recently, I splurged on one of those virtual hair services, where you upload a photo of yourself and see what hairstyles look good on you.

Let's see the results, shall we?







Here's me with my current hair. Eh, it's okay, I guess.









Here's me with a shaggy shag. It's shaggitudinal. Not so great though, so let's move on.










Here's a nice little bob thingy. Hmm, not too bad. Let's keep this one in mind and soldier on.










Okay, here's me as Ellen. Actually looks okay.










Alright, here I am as a local TV newscaster....










Butch me...










Me as my Dad...












Me with dreds...










And, finally, me as Tookie the Clown. That concludes our journey. I'll let you know which one I pick.

Yippee!

Hey, we're getting some impromptu guests this weekend! Dan is going to kidnap Badpie & Her Man from the big bad city tomorrow and drag them up to the hinterlands where I live! Quadruple yay!

On the agenda: rent the Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, play with the pooches, drink cheap wine and cocktails, go to the lone jazz bar (Motto: Sometimes we have actual jazzers here. But not always.), and other fun goodness of fun. Look, I'm so excited I'm repeating myself.