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On Monday, the blinds installer finally came. So we got blinds. They are pretty nice except for the fact that all of the pull knobs have Hunter Douglas advertising on them.



Can't complain too much, though, as getting them through a third party made it significantly cheaper than going through the design center. However, the company neglected to inform the one lone installer dude that we have a two-story French window, so he had to come back on Tuesday with help. The help he brought looked like a 15-year-old kid, tbh. I kind of wished I watched the install, but I thought that might come off as creepy, so I browsed the internet, instead.

Wednesday, I had my dental follow up. I'm pretty sure that, even though I plan to continue visiting my new dentist (or rather, Dental Family, since it seems like I get a different doctor every time), I am unlikely to recommend them. The place has the air of a car dealership where everyone is on commission. They handed me a customer survey to fill out while I was waiting for the dentist, so I complained about the ridic wait of my first visit and the fact that no one called to remind me of my last two follow-ups. Then after they check my teeth, the QA chick who was one of three people who reviewed my review, came to discuss it with me. I was like... my old dentist had three chairs. And I generally would know who I was seeing on the day of my appointment. You have a very big and very nice facility and I appreciate the work you've done on my teeth. (Internally: But for the love of G_d you are so impersonal, and the fact that you have an additional person in charge of trying to make it seem more personal just exacerbates the superficiality of it. Also, I kind of feel like I've joined a cult I can't escape.)

I don't like the air of the center, but I did like the lady who originally cleaned my teeth. I could do without the hard sell, though.

Thursday, I put together a new rolling craft shelf, mostly for storing paper. My office is still not respectable looking.

Friday, I drove 20 minutes out of town to get a haircut. I will admit that, while I picked the salon mostly based on Yelp reviews, I also chose it because the name (LVL) seemed slightly nerdy to me and I was hoping to meet another Ingrid. I lead by telling the stylist that my hair is very fine and flat, so I can't buzz the back and the Ginnifer Goodwin/Mary-Margaret cut that I like looks like pre-trailer-trash Justin Bieber when my hair is dry and has no product in it. This new stylist listened, so I will be returning for future haircuts. Margie is no Ingrid, but after chatting, I think that her 15-year-old kid and I would have been friends if we'd been in high school together. We both agreed that it is a positive thing that he's embracing his geekiness early and has managed to find a group he fits in with.



Saturday... I recorded in the morning and I forgot to set a 10am alarm so I wound up sleeping in until noon. Then I helped Ben get a housewarming gift for Brian and Sheryl (co-worker, not my sister), but begged off attending because I wasn't in the headspace to socialize. I wound up reorganizing the garage.

I'm also getting into a groove practicing the cello: 30 minutes in the morning and 30 in the evening, with the first half of each session dedicated to bowing and scales, and the last half dedicated to mucking about playing songs. I can squeak through a basic rendition of Take to the Sky and a modified version of the Doll-and-the-Kicks cover of Tik-Tok. So much for considering it the "primary voice." Ah, well, maybe once I'm more adept.
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