In between the great Christmas wrap-up and the huge New Year's hoop-la, my mother wielded her great matronly force into getting my hair permed. Turns out she liked how my hair was done for my best friend's wedding so much she wanted it permanent. And, as it always seems to turn out when I visit my parents, I have very little say (if any) on the matter.
I suppose if mom wants to spend the money I should let her. The chemical burning happens tomorrow morning, when it's too early for me to really complain about anything except lack of sleep.
I ran into an old school pal today. This girl, she was one of those bright figure-out-the-structure-of-DNA types. She got married either her freshman or sophomore year in college, and dropped out of college to have babies. I'm not quite sure why this is so depressing to me. Perhaps because I'm of the mind that everyone THAT brilliant should at least finish college. Even if your major ends up being Underwater Basket Weaving or something similarly non-productive.
To limit my exposure to the locals (and retain the little bit of sanity I have left), I've been putting all my favorite recipes in one of those blank books I'm so fond of buying. Now, when I want to impress The Honey and make Toscana soup followed by Fettuccine with Mushrooms & Prosciutto and finish with Classic Tiramisu (from the recipe of a true Italian chef, from the old country), I have all the recipes in one little notebook. Now I just need to muster the energy and ingredients to make all that stuff.
I miss home so much. I've got big plans when my roommate moves all her furniture out and I can move all my new stuff (stolen from the parents, of course) in. I have no idea why I'm so excited to have my own little apartment without roommates, but it's a thrilling prospect.
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