Oops, I did it again

I guess you could put it down to the law of unintended consequences. It's really hot here in North Carolina and I had to see if I could live without the air conditioning and, well, I cut my own hair again. I did not photograph the results this time because it was not charmingly rumpled or cute. It was hacked. A mess. Not funny in the least. And I was all sweaty and cursing and -- once I looked in the mirror -- trying not to cry.

Or laugh too hard.

See, I read these stories about air conditioning on alternet.org last month [part one and part two]*, and I got to wondering whether I could live without air conditioning in my house. I absolutely hate hot weather, but my little house is so well insulated that I thought I might be able to make it work. And, actually, it turns out that I can. Most of the time. If I don't move too quickly. I mean, I really dislike having the house all shut up all the damn time. And I'm not crazy about stepping out into a blast furnace from a comfortable cool place (although, yeah, the reverse is usually pretty nice).

But what I forgot is how cranky I get (and how quickly it happens) when I'm hot. And in a hurry. 'Cranky' maybe isn't the right word. I totally lost it this morning, yall. I got up early and it was comfortable. I had ceiling fans moving gently and all the windows open, and I've got some big trees shading the house in the morning (see photo). I made some breakfast and washed the dishes and made a cocktail shaker full of ice cubes, sweetened condensed milk (not too much) and four shots of espresso -- shake it the hell up and pour it into a glass before too much of the ice melts: yum.

And then -- oh gosh look at the time and I had to throw my clothes on too soon after I got out of the tub (and don't you hate trying to get dressed when you're all damp and sticky? I sure do) and then go across the street and feed JD's cats and then let Elvis out and Mrs. Mitty in (or vice versa, they try to stay on opposite sides of the door if possible) and then oh my god here come the recycling dudes and I have this huge pile of stuff on the porch.

So yeah, I rushed around and got all hot and crabby and I stopped to wash my face and that was the big big mistake. Because there was a pair of sewing shears next to the hairbrush. Big sharp pink-handled ones. And I just started cutting and cutting and cutting.

The next thing I remember I was brushing my teeth and looking at myself in the mirror wondering whether I had anything scheduled right away. I did not. I called my hair guy and they tell me I have to wait two weeks.

Not an option.

I went to the walk-in haircuts-R-us place next to work and begged them to help me. I think the woman did a pretty OK job, considering what she had to work with. I tried not to boss her around too much. I could see there was only so much she could do. And I guess it is a great deal cooler. I had to go down to the gym at lunch time mostly to wash out the cruddy hair products they used, and I hate it just as much when I styled it myself as I did when I left haircuts-R-us. So it's easy to style, anyway. I like that in a haircut. Plus, you know what? It's just hair. It'll grow. I'm practically a genius at growing hair.

Too bad I'm such an idiot about cutting it.

*[Update: And this post at Pandagon also inspired me to try living without the AC. Frankly, I didn't think I'd make it for more than a day. It's still off.]