Bah. Travelled into town in order to attend the pub quiz tonight, and found that it wasn't on this week. Grr. Turned around and came straight back, since I wouldn't be in a (pause to spit) sports bar for anything else.
Went through ITV's Great British Pop Quiz this morning (we'd recorded it). Got 31/40, which is a rather disappointing score. Oh well.
Had my hair cut today. Last time was 18th October, 2003. It's shorter than it was, cut to lie about shoulder height. Which means, given the natural springiness my hair exhibits when it's not dragged down by its own weight, that it'll probably bob around my ears for a day or so, and thereafter I shall swan about looking like I am wearing a brownish wimple.
I hate having my hair cut. I've got no idea how it should be cut. I don't know what'd suit me. I don't know what's possible with my hair, and I don't know what my head's like, under it (my hair was last short in 1987). And even if I could answer any of all that, I don't know how to describe it. I just shrug forlornly, and hope they're telepathic.