Return to Hogwarts; I feel pretty, oh, so pretty

I woke up mid-afternoon, just in time to go see the second matinee of Harry Potter at the Uptown. Really good, but the only thing that bothers me is the relentless pace. It’s heavily plot-driven, leaving little time for character development, which I wanted more of. Not until very late in the movie do you get a thoughtful line, like this one from Professor Dumbledore: “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” Ah well, again I say, I’m not exactly in the target audience, so I won’t belabor the criticism. By the way, someone, anyone, give Harry a haircut. Or at least a comb? Please.

Speaking of which, I got my hair cut today after work. (Get a load of this pic. I have the “stare off into the distance” look down. [photo to be re-uploaded]) I just went to the Hair Cuttery, which is your run-of-the-mill, hair salon franchise, but I landed in the hands of a great stylist. Since I get my hair cut only once or twice a year, it ends up being a big job. When asked what cut I wanted, I pointed to my hair, and said, “Can you just chop this all off?” Which she patiently did, clipping and shearing to and fro.

When we were about done, she narrowed her eyes and looked everything over. “Do you mind if I trim your eyebrows?” she asked. I was like, “Ooh, go right ahead!” I was practically having a makeover right there, and goshdarnit if I had said no. She took out a pair of tiny scissors and snipped away at my brows. You can’t really tell the difference, though, which I suppose is a good thing. They’re not shaped or anything, just a bit more orderly. (I’m reminded of this store in D.C. that I keep meaning to check out, the Grooming Lounge. I should go in and pamper myself one of these days.)