Matt Needs a Haircut

… but he doesn’t know what kind of haircut to get, so he asked me to crowdsource some ideas! For reference, Matt on the left is a pretty good indicator of what his hair looks like freshly cut (this was on our honeymoon). Matt on the right is what he looks like now (except maybe slightly less weird — this was taken while he was revving the motorcycle).

Matt Hair

The short hair is his standard haircut that the hairdressers here give him. He’s wondering now if he can keep the length but do something that actually looks styled rather than ‘I haven’t cut my hair in over six months’. His biggest concerns are:

  • he has a strong widows peak hairline
  • his hair is very straight and relatively fine — it doesn’t have any cowlicks or much texture
  • he’s not the type to spend 20 minutes on his hair, though he is willing to use some product to get it into shape
  • through the warm months he rides his motorcycle and thus wears a full-face helmet over his hair
  • he wants something to go with his style (which is casual — t-shirts, jeans, hoodies, shorts, button-down shirts)
  • he is considering something retro-ish like a pompadour (hopefully more James Dean than Elvis)

I decided to run him through some online makeover sites but the first one I used only had women’s hairstyles so the results were freaking hilarious (and he let me post them):

Matt Collage

The bottom left? Definitely Wolverine. Then I tried a site that actually had men’s haircuts but I couldn’t resist trying out a few Bieber styles:

Matt Collage 2

Okay, the middle one is from the first site, and he looks like Bob Ross (happy little trees!). I kinda think the middle left isn’t that bad, though he does have the widows peak to contend with.┬áBut wait, there’s more…

Matt Collage 3

He should have never agreed to let me do this. Obviously I’m terrible at men’s hairstyles — do any of you have suggestions for him? If not, he said he’s growing his hair out until he gets a Charlie Manson comment at which point he’ll cut it off. He also threatened to use clippers on himself, so consider this an SOS.

Cheestrings and Meltdowns

I am, by nature, a high-stress person. Some might call me high-strung, even (oh, that’s a pun).

Right now I don’t actually have that much long-term stress. Our wedding is looming, yes, but I’ve managed to break down all the stuff left to do into manageable chunks (ask me again if I’m stressed about the wedding in another seven weeks or so). We are doing well, financially, at the moment. Matt and I have been having lots of talks about the future and what it holds and I feel pretty secure with that.

It’s the little every day things that brutalize me. When the cats are constantly fighting, or the fridge is cluttered, or my laundry pile seems to be reproducing on its own.

Last week I had a mini-meltdown after an email I was supposed to send at 3:30 p.m. was still bouncing back to me at 5 p.m. thanks to insufficient data capabilities. It was a production day, too, and we were short staffed. I had to deal with FTP errors, and lots of running around. When I went downstairs to leave my co-worker pointed out I was covered in hives.

So — stress hives, yay! Matt tried to fix things by taking me out for dinner. Two appletinis helped, but when we got home everything fell apart again shortly thereafter and I ended up in that awful crying-for-the-sake-of-crying state at midnight, in bed. Once I was capable of breathing through my nose again he went downstairs to try and get some things together to help me out.

He brought up Tylenol, for my headache, a Gravol for my stomach (and, honestly, probably to knock me out, too), some tissue for my nose, and a glass of water.

… and a cheestring.

Something about the way he proudly presented it with, “and a cheestring!” made me stop crying (momentarily) and let out a giggle. His reasoning that I should eat something with the meds made sense, of course, but… it was a cheesestring. Such a goofy snack. And I actually had to sit there and string it because I’m philosophically opposed to people who just eat them whole, so it distracted me from my meltdown.

I’m probably going to get stressed out again in the future. I’m probably going to cry myself to sleep on more than one occasion. But there will always be Matt, and there will always be cheestrings.

Side note: I just learned these are called cheestrings and not cheesestrings.