Saturday I got my haircut. I had needed one for so long, but since I usually have my mom cut it and that wasn’t going to be possible for awhile, I searched for the cheapest cut in town. I ended up at Borics. Yes, Borics. I know I know, it’s Borics. But they advertised a $12 adult haircut, and that’s about all I’m willing to pay to trim a few inches from my mop.

Unfortunately the (un)nice lady who cut my hair didn’t quite grasp the concept of “two inches off all around with a few very subtle layers to minimize bulk.” Instead I felt like I had a mullet. The bottom layer was only about a quarter inch shorter than before it was cut, and the shortest layer was more than two inches above that. I didn’t think to take a picture so I can’t share the ridiculousness, but it drove me crazy all day long. I begged Brad for hours to please just trim it for me.

He resisted all day until I offered him money. Not that he was going to take it, but I think he saw my desperation and agreed to give it a shot. He was not very thrilled about the process, but look at the concentration on his face. I won’t say he has the most graceful technique, but he did such a great job. I took some pretty funny videos, but unfortunately I can’t share them due to my being basically topless throughout. Didn’t want little hairs all over my clothes.

Speaking of clothes, have you tried to shop for baby clothes recently? Because let me tell you, it’s scary out there, and I had no idea. There are a couple of babies I wanted to buy clothes for, so both friday night and saturday afternoon I attempted to shop for some cute baby outfits. Apparently my idea of cute is strikingly different from most major retail establishments, baby clothing designers and supposedly parents as well. Holy crap it was a nightmare.

First of all the sizing sytem. I couldn’t figure it out, and once I finally did, I realized that the few things I actually liked only came in sizes 12 months and up. “Excuse me, but the babies in my life are smaller than that. Am I really forced to buy them this gaudy crap over here? Boys clothes are all about the sports. Footballs and baseballs reigned, and more than one tiny shirt said something about playing on Daddy’s Team, whatever the hell that means. Apparently baby boys love the stripes and can’t wear anything but blue and green.

Girls, well they love pink of course. Every. damn. thing. is PINK! Yeah okay, pink is cute or whatever, but my god can’t a baby girl wear a little red or blue or orange once in awhile? Or green? Or brown or black or grey even? And even if you do manage to dig up something unpink, I guarantee is has flowers all over it. Or frills. Or it says Little Princess because, you know, girls are supposed to be princesses. Who wear pink. And love flowers. And frills.

I swear, without exaggeration, I spent close to four hours looking for baby clothes. In one store I walked back and forth through the baby section, hoping that maybe I’d spot something I didn’t notice before. Four hours, and all I managed to find were two outfits, one for a girl and one for a boy.

When I have children, here are the rules: minimal pink and minimal flowers, very few frills and zero references to “princess” for the girls; minimal sports themed clothes for the boys and nothing about being a future football super hero. Also, I’ll strongly discourage anything to do with Disney or cartoon characters. I don’t know which characters will be en vogue for kids when I have mine, but so help me if you buy my children an entire wardrobe based on a talking car I will deny you all future visitation rights!*

And my final news from the weekend is that I confirmed I definitely do not like wine. Brad and I went to a wine tasting at a nearby winery with some friends. I sampled four or five wines and after two sips of each, I passed my glass to Brad. I tried a red, a white, a blush and even something that was given a 10 on the sweetness scale. Nope, hated them all. I know I could force myself to acquire a taste for wine so I can fit in with the masses, but who has time? Is it really so ridiculous to order a Pepsi in a fine dining atmosphere? And how often do I find myself in a fine dining environment anyway? Exactly. I’ll stick to Pepsi.

*I’ll probably be so grateful for free clothes and far too exhausted to care what they look like, that I’ll dress my kids in anything. But for now, while I’m childless, these are the rules.