trendymatt's Diaryland Diary

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Hell, it's still cheaper than therapy.

After the drama at work yesterday morning, I was feeling a bit pessimistic about what the rest of the week had in store for me. Heading home a little earlier than usual for my after-work nap did nothing to alleviate the feeling that bad, bad things were in store in the coming week. Thus, I resorted to drastic measures to brighten a day that had been reduced to a dull finish.

Before I say this, I must preface with the fact that I am the cheapest mo'fo' out there when it comes to taming the mess of hair resting on my head. My usual haircare regime involves $2 shampoo and once-a-month trips to Great Clips for an $11 haircut. Hell, for a year in college I cut my own hair, which was admittedly not one of my best laid plans. Throw in the occasional useless styling product, and I probably invest a maximum of twenty bucks in my hair any given month.

Before yesterday, the last time I had a haircut was the week before Thanksgiving. If I were one of those naturally rugged, unintentionally stylish kind of guys, I'd have been looking pretty damn good lately. As I clearly am not, I was starting to resemble a depressed A/V Club nerd. I had kidded myself long enough. I was not pulling off the "carefully disheveled" look as I had led myself to believe. I just looked downright unruly.

The events following my entry into the salon are hazy at best. Before I could say "take a little off the top," my assigned stylist was throwing out various words such as "texture" and "highlights," and was getting quite excited as she ran her fingers through my forest of misshapen hair.

The first step was the highlighting, which turned out nothing like the well-intentioned, but less than stylish attempts at the procedure I've recruited Mom to help me achieve in previous years. Rather than thick, random chunks of orange throughout my head, I now have carefully-placed accents just slightly lighter than my natural dark brown.

The shampooing was most definitely my favorite part about the process. There's something about laying back into the sink contoured to fit my neck while someone sprays a perfectly controlled, yet powerful jet of water through my hair that made me want to just fall asleep on the spot. Had the stylist asked me to steal her away from her husband and kids for a torrid weekend in the Poconos, I would have obliged.

And the haircut! For the first time in years, I wasn't subjected to the horror of the electric clippers. My hair was shaped into a style that looks both good without any styling product when I'm out on the town, or defined with just a little bit of gel or wax for a look more appropriate for work.

I was totally Queer-Eyed by a forty year-old mother of two. All for what I still consider $55 well-spent.

As if that weren't enough to make my day, I stopped by Target on my way home to pick up a shower curtain liner and Windex. Seriously, my glamorous lifestyle is one to envy.

I guess I hadn't quite exorcised the A/V Club demons with the stylish 'do, because I found myself gravitating toward the electronics department after grabbing the items on my list. There, all alone on the shelf was a home theater system on a hellacious clearance for eighty bucks.

In what will go down in history as the greatest impulse buy ever, I am now the proud owner of a pretty decent surround sound system, which miraculously rang up at the register at twenty bucks less than the marked price. I stayed up way too late watching Fight Club, marveling at the sounds I had never heard before.

Okay, that's a lie. I stayed up way too late figuring out the tangle of cords and wires, plugging them into a deceptively simple system of color-coded connections. The resulting boxes, wrappers, and twist-ties kept the cat busy while my apartment looked like Radio Shack exploded in the living room, blowing debris clear into the kitchen. I opted not to use the owners manual, but my own remedial electronic know-how to do the job in roughly three times the estimated time.

The pinnacle of home theater design was reached at about 1:30 a.m. when I decided to set the rear speakers on soup cans on the windowsill behind my futon.

I did put Fight Club in the DVD player shortly thereafter, though. But before Edward Norton could say "cornflower blue tie," I was passed out on the living room floor.

God, I love playing with electronics.

9:44 am - 01.06.04

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