I trimmed my bangs this morning.

I just couldn’t stand the multiple layers in my eyes. But I did cut them longer than usual, so that I can grow them out this winter. Hopefully, it’ll be easier to pin them back now that they are one length, but oh, I’m not looking forward to this at all.

I just discovered that I’m on call tomorrow. So much for my plans to do my Christmas shopping. It’s never getting done.

I’m back in the NICU for the rest of the month (and the mean resident is off for the rest of the month, limiting all of my interactions with him to next to nothing) and wow, it feels good to be back home. Plus, I’m working again with my favoritest attending ever (Im much more saucy with him than I ever am with my other attendings. I’m afraid I make a bad example for the medical student!) and it’s such a joy working again, I almost don’t mind that I have to go to bed in thirty seconds to face another early and full day.

But enough with that work stuff, shall we? Jack’s becoming a very dull boy.

I’ve had a paid account for something like 3 years and I’ve never used any of the extra features (except the userpics, but with the limited amount of time, I find myself using only my default. Must change that.) So, let’s do that.

Back in October, when I went home, I went to a salon and had my hair done. First time ever. I’m the $12 hairbut kind of girl. Anyway, the stylist twitted me about my bangs, saying that it made me look like a teenager and that I needed something that more respected my age. He wanted me to grow them out, I begged him into a compromise where he cut more bangs and layered them. They were cute and short and different–for about three days, before my hair slide back into its typical flat look that it always has. *sigh* I sure wish my hair flowed and glimmered like my little userpic)

I haven’t cut my hair since, and my bangs are now hanging into my eyes. And I’m having a really hard time preventing myself from just grabbing the scissors and hacking them–or at least even them out again.

So far I’ve resisted….resisted long enough to find the time to sit down and make a poll and ask you, wise flist, about it.

I’d add pictures, but I’m still having difficulty hooking my camera up to my computer, so that will have to wait.

Here be poll

The day spent in Chicago with Chris was almost, almost enough to wipe away all of the taint from my evil resident and this horrible week.

I’m not quite ready for Monday, but at least I won’t be throwing things at my poor defenseless alarm clock.

Plus, I only have two days left with him, really only a day and a half, since he is on call tomorrow, and therefore will be leaving by noon on Tuesday. It’s survivable.

Thanks for all the well wishes and support. Don’t worry, I wasn’t too injured by my resident’s behavior–I’ve know that he was a jerk and more since the first time I worked with him in August (and the repeat verse is so much worse than the first). He’s a hypocrite and a very unpleasant person (except to patients.. he belittles me (it’s subtle, but it’s there) when we’re in the room together, but he’s as sweet as baklava to them, so now I have a couple of my patients asking me to leave during family conferences or doing procedures. Gee thanks). But this will be the last time I will ever have to interact with him for an extended period of time.

I think I rather like Chicago, tall buildings and all, and probably will now make time to go and visit on spare weekends.

This was the last time I’ll see Chris, or anybody from home, until at least May. So maybe I’m not as entirely happy as the mood there suggests.

iTunes now carries soundtracks from all of my favorite musicals. I think they’ve carried them for a while, but luckily I was ignorant to their presence.

Singin’ in The Rain. South Pacific. The King and I. Mary Poppins. The Sound of Music. My waller is not appreciative.

I’ve already given in to the lure of owning Finian’s Rainbow which was my favorite as a teenager; I had such a crush on Tommy Steele. That brogue. That twinkling smile. I know, I know Fred Astaire and Petula Clark’s accents were atrocious and Keenan Wynn’s makeup job as the white Senator turned black is laughable, but oh, it was magical. I’ve carried fantasies about being wooed under a devil moon since then.

We didn’t get cable at my home, because we lived too far out of town, so I watched mostly musicals and old Disney movies from the library growing up. When I was younger, my sisters and I would have contests and sing all of the musicals that we could remember. It made washing the dishes go by faster. I could probably sing you most of “Oklahoma!” from heart even now. There are very few of the “classic” musicals that I have not seen (I don’t think I’ve seen State Fair all the way through), and fewer that I hate. Gigi is probably top of that list. Old men singing about lusting after little girls is too much. As well as The Pajama Game (adore Doris Day. But, ugh that was a painful movie). And I’ve fallen asleep twice now rewatching Annie, because it’s so boring. Boring! The lure from childhood isn’t there anymore.

My favorite musical of all time is actually an operetta. Junior year of high school, I had stayed up to work on a paper, and a episode of “Live at Lincoln Center” was playing. They were putting on a performance of The Merry Widow. Within minutes I was hooked (the paper, if I remember right, did not get finished on time because of my latest obsession). I’ve watched it probably 50 times since then and still love it. I’ve seen it performed live, but it was a horrid disappointment. Apparently, the Lincoln Center performance was a new translation and interpretation; the version that I saw live was the San Francisco version and it lacked the humor and warmth and the threads of the Merry Widow Waltz throughout. I’ve never been able to track down a recording of it and I’ve worn holes in my old VCR copy. Such a shame.