Now that the backyard is immaculate and adorable, we’ve been grilling and hosting small gatherings. It’s so fun and I love having friends over for tiny little dinner parties. Last night, Zoe, Richard, Big Chris, Alex and I dined on salmon and chicken, enjoying great wine while having charming conversations. We looked like an episode of Friends. As Zoe and Richard left to attend some house party, Big Chris nervously leaned in and said, “We’re not going to some dude’s house, right?”
“No, dear. We’re staying here and drinking.”
“Sweet! Get me another Tecate.”
Suddenly, New Chris called and showed up with some kid named Sacha, who Alex totally knows. Sacha, god bless him, just broke up with some chick and is so devastated, he lost 20 lbs. I wish that’s how I dealt with heartache. Sadly, I subscribe to the Golden Girls reaction of diving into midnight cheesecake and caftans.
I gathered the boys and took them to the Monkey Club, where Gigi bought my drinks and Sacha talked about his ex-girlfriend. I have to say, I frequently find myself surrounded by men who go through women like toilet paper, and use them in much the same manor. It was a relief to hear a guy actually upset over ending a relationship. “It’s supposed to be painful and shitty. That’s how you know you’re not an asshole.”
These words seemed to calm him.
I woke up this morning surprisingly hung-over and late for my appointment with Misty, my brilliant stylist and friend. Misty and I have been planning a big cut and color for some time. I’ve really put my hair through the ringer over the past few years and it’s time to lop it all off and start from scratch. Inspired by Blow Out, Misty and I have been compiling color options and discussing length, deciding on a rather big change.
I have just returned from 3 hours in Misty’s chair. And I have this to say:
I love it. I completely love it. But holy shit…