you can actually hear the rain this morning and perhaps that's why i slept in till 10 but thought it was like 7. i swore that woodpecker outside my window was trying to kill me by depreving me of sleep but now i understand he was just saving me from slothfulness; and lou dog, i see now too that his howling wasn't malicious just howling- at the sirens that were probably caused by car accidents due to the rain. but i'm inside, safe and dry and honestly enjoying this forecast. because i can hear it, because it's not pussy rain like we usually get where you don't even know it's raining till you've been outside for ten minutes and your like, "huh, how did i get wet? oh it's raining." it might have even thundered last night, or i might have just dreampt about it. either way, it's going to flood around here and flood bad. from my window i can see the pasture below turning into a lake and a river now where the drive way once was. and to think we're on a hill.

in just a bit i'm going back out to ashland to get my 50 dollar haircut fixed. i went to the nicest place in the valley, i brought a picture, i explained in great detail how i wanted it and what she should expect from my hair, and still the lady fcked it up. i know i shouldn't be angry about it because it's just hair and whatever it'll grow back out but it's a week and a half from my wedding, now it's too short to do it how i wanted it, and i paid more money for a haircut out here in bumble fck backwards southern oregon than i ever did back in the fancy salons in dallas-there should be no reason why she couldn't do it right and out of all times to fck it, right before i wed. and not only is it nothing like the cut i wanted, she fcked up on the haircut she gave me. there are some things i can be fooled with but when it comes to music, food, wine, fashion, and haircuts-there is no pulling the wool over my eyes.

and that's what happens when you start reading vogue and W at the tender age of 10.