Kate left today and I'm bereft. It was so lovely having one of my best friends here, with whom lark around DC and both Max and I had got really used to having her here and enjoyed having a fun buddy living with us.
With Kate jetting over to LA to stay with Tom and Bambi with a suitcase groaning with funky new threads, I caught up on emails and accounts and stuff that I haven't done for a week and then went to get my hair cut by the lady with the gigantic Vidal Sassoon bob tattoos who's cut my hair twice since we got here.
The first time she (Barbara is her somewhat incongruous name) cut it, it was the best haircut I've ever had and I LOVED it. The second time was so-so and this time was a disaster!
I wanted to go really for a really short crop (a la the Swedish pixie we saw in Bourbon), but Barbara's mind didn't seem to be on the job, or something, because she was taking forever to cut my hair, then her next client arrived and she panicked and basically started again, wetting my hair all over again and going for something different.
I'm not sure what her vision was, but I'm quite sure it wasn't the weird fringe she's given me that has gigantic, dramatic steps in it halfway across my forehead.
I also chickened out of going blonde, but instead dyed my hair dark chocolate brown when I got home, in an attempt to make something good come out of the crime to hairdressing that Barbara left me with. Ah well, I take comfort from a real life hair salon in Ladbroke Grove, called 'It'll Grow Back'...
We go to New York tomorrow for a weekend of Christmassy fun, including the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, featuring the Rockettes, and Anne's family tree-trimming party at her parents' apartment on the Upper East Side.
We were due to stay with Max's friend Jo but found out today the terrible news that her father has died suddenly and she's had to rush back to Britain. I'm so so sad for Jo and her family - it must be particularly hard for Jo, having it be both a shock and living so far away when it happened. It prompted me to call Mum and Dad because sometimes being over here feels like a waste of time I could be spending with my nearest and dearest, which I'll regret when they're gone.
My fiendish plan is to die before anyone I love, so I won't have to face such things. You have been warned.
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