April 26, 2002 - 7:19 p.m.

i am currently hiding in the cave.

that's my new phrase for hiding in the bedroom from simon's parents, or from life, for that matter. there really isn't any place to hide here, and it's one of a list of things that are not so great about our present situation. i've been stressing the past week over this and some other stuff i won't mention now. all i will say is that i'm glad simon is understanding and loves me. a lot.

one of the reasons i hide from simon's parents is that they ask a lot of questions. they can fire away like nobody's business. imagine the following at hyperspeed:

how was your day?
what did you do?
did you have a good day?
how did the job interview go?
what was it like?
what did they ask you?
how did the other job interview go?
what about such-and-such job?
did you call so-and-so?
what are you and simon going to do tonight?
what?
where?
what are you going to do tonight?
where's that? oh right.
who are you going to see?
who's that?
who?
oh, i don't know that person. have you talked to so-and-so?
what time are you leaving?
are you going to eat before you go?
where are you going to eat?
where's that?

AD INFINITUM.

let me also mention, while i'm venting, that simon's mum is getting hard of hearing. her memory's also getting worse. so not only will she ask me all of these questions (and believe me, she will), but she will ask some of them again because she A)didn't hear my answer the first time or B)forgot my answer. sometimes both. sometimes she will repeat the same question three times. when we watched the stars walk up the red carpet at the academy awards, she had to ask, "who's that?" EVERY time. i'm not kidding. i really think she has no idea that this is annoying, so i can't get too riled up about it. she's a very sweet person. so is simon's dad. really. i just need to move out.

now that you know this, i'll tell you the real reason i'm hiding. i went to the hairdresser today and got a really bad haircut. well, it's not bad by someone else's standards, i'm sure, but i hate it on me. HATE. in fact, i put a pillow over my head and cried while simon was typing because i couldn't deal with it. it's even worse because i love my hairdresser, and i didn't make a scene because he's planning to do something to my hair for an upcoming l'oreal hair color contest. (FYI: he was talking about white blond before i left, complete with lighter brows.) anyway, i have a jamie lee curtis poof with blunt, horizontally cut sideburns stretching across my ears and a beatles-esque mushroom on top, and i don't feel like talking about anything, much less how my day went. i don't want to discuss my hair. and i know she will.

in other news, the time machine is a really bad movie. it was fun to watch but had more holes than swiss cheese. another bad movie, this time on rental: my beautiful laundrette. it got two good reviews in the newspaper recently, so we thought it was an easy choice. wrong. very dry, and it tried to address too many political things at once: british class system, homophobia, racism, etc. daniel day-lewis should've been given a much bigger role.