(no subject)

Got a haircut yesterday. It's a bit shorter than I expected, but that's what I wanted, so.

( lj-narcissism )

After all of yesterday's madness, I ended up going out for food and beers with K who, unsurprisingly, liked the hair. (Food aside: roasted beets with marinated goat cheese and watercress... nnngh. taaaasty.) She's so familiar to me, in the best senses of the word. It's nice to have friends with longitudinal perspective.

Anyway, we ended up moving from our table to the bar. Apparently this sent out the "need-manliness-now" beacon, since it wasn't five minutes before some random guy started trying to chat us up:

Guy: So, are you girls Norwegian?
M: [blank look]
K: Uh, no.
Guy: Swedish?
M: Should we be?
K: No, we're American.
Guy: No! Get out!

[pause. this is clearly not going to be an interesting conversation.]

Guy (pointing to K): Look at her! She's got a problem with being Norwegian.
K: No, I'm just ... not.

[snip annoyingly long bit where K reveals her heritage to be irish, and guy proves that he can't pronounce "cead mile failte" while drunk]

Guy (pointing back to K): So, she's the leader, huh? Yeah, look, she's the leader.
K: [downs the rest of her beer, trying not to snarf]
M: No, I'm the leader, I'm just quiet about it.

As we were leaving, she turned to me and said, "I think he meant 'top'."

In other news: new skates! We went out and bought new skates on Sunday. They're solid and light and zoomy. This is terribly exciting.