the procrastinating girl

Summer Buzz

There is one area of my life where I am inarguably low maintenance.  I am a wash n' wear girl.  Open my bathroom cabinet and you will not find, as my seven-year-old now knows, 'product'.  I always care about how I look, I just don't need extra-deep conditioning hair gel mask glaze.  Or a comb.  But the truth is, I hadn't gotten a haircut in quite a long time.  Seeing as I spend most of my days running around town, or literally running, with it back in a pony tail, it hadn't bothered me until recently.  Then I hit a wall.  And I wanted to see Joseph.  Immediately.  But as a non-product person, I don't buy into the rules of the game.  Here's how it played out:

"Hello, this is Amy Oringel.  I'd like a haircut with Joseph."

"Ok Amy.  When would you like to come in?"

"Right now."

Crickets.

"Um, Joseph is booked through next week.  What is your schedule like?"

 "Thanks, I'll call you back."

After three such attempts, I realized that it was fine to be the girl without the blow dryer.  On my own time.   But to get in, I had to play along.  I tried again and booked over two weeks in advance.  My appointment was yesterday.  My ponytail is history.  I have a short summer cut that requires nothing more than a swish of my towel.  And I am off and running again.

Swann Dive

When it comes to reading for pleasure, I am a non-fiction girl.  I forgave Doris Kearns Goodwin.  And mourned David Halberstam.  And worshiped Woodward and Bernstein to the point that it was kinda odd.  In recent years, I have become increasingly preoccupied with philosophy, particularly existentialism.  I like the heft of a passage on life's true ambiguity at the end of a day consisting of two playdates and back-to-back swim lessons.  But still, I felt a true literary accomplishment was needed.  After all, philosophy is boundless.  Sure you may complete a book, but you are truly never finished.  Are you?  Can that question even be answered?   See?   Ok, so, enter my project of the summer.  Alright, before we get excited, I am not cleaning closets.  Nor putting together photo albums.  That would, in fact, be productive.  I am tackling Proust.  Yes, I'm a wee bit nuts.  But so far Mr. Swann and I are co-habitating just fine.  Of course right now I'm watching reruns of The Office.