Hermits Gone Wild

Recipe: The Laziest Saturday Ever

So what do you do when your flight makes an emergency landing and your exciting Labor Day weekend plans are shot? Go back home and enjoy the laziest Saturday ever.

You may be interested in recreating the laziest Saturday ever at home. Unfortunately, this is a recipe that has been passed down from generation to generation, and you may need to adjust the ingredients to get it just right. In fact, the more times you can try this recipe, the more confident I am that you will finally find the perfect mix.

Ingredients:

-Pajamas (of the sweatpants, not sexy, variety)

-Two Strongbow ciders

-A strong fan or A/C

-A bed with a down comforter

-A TV featuring a House marathon (if your local cable provider does not carry a House marathon, or does not have it in stock, a Law & Order or Bones marathon will work in a pinch.)

-Buffalo Chicken Dip w/Tostitos

-Optional: Lennie Briscoe, the most adorable cat on the planet

Instructions:

Put on the pajamas. Turn on the fan next to the bed or turn on the A/C and close the door to your bedroom to maximize coolness in the room. You want to be just chilly enough that the blanket is required to warm you. Get in bed, placing the Strongbow on a nightstand to your left and the chips and dip on the bed (yes, the bed—you do not want to stretch for food) next to you on your right. Turn on the TV and begin watching House. Crawl under the covers, but leave your arms free for Strongbow and chips. Drink and eat liberally, not worrying about whatever you’re almost definitely spilling all over your cozy down comforter. Enjoy House, but not so much that it prevents you from almost immediately falling asleep. If you choose to add a Lennie Briscoe to the recipe, do so just before sleep, as the cat’s purrs will be conducive to a more productive nap session.

Gmail rules. 

I have a secret

I hate going to the salon.

I love hair products. I just spent oodles of money at Lush, most of which was on hair products. I have bottles and bottles and bottles of half-used shampoos and conditioners and gels in boxes because I can’t stop myself from buying the next new thing. But I hate going to the salon.

I hate it so much that I’ve been coloring my hair from a box for the last two years. I haven’t had a haircut in six months. My hair is long — too, too long — and I’m waiting until the last possible moment to make an appointment.

It’s not one place or one person I dislike. In fact, I can never seem to find a place or a person I like so much that I want to go back more than a few times.

I don’t want to make an appointment because I hate dealing with the small talk. I’m not an over-sharer (although I’m open enough to answer most questions when asked) and I’m terrible at striking that appropriate light, chatty tone that everyone seems to have in the salon. Then I end up of focusing on how much comfortable everyone else is, and how uncomfortable I am, and I feel sorta like a loser no matter how awesome my hair looks when I leave.

But, my hair is dangerously encroaching on hippie territory. So an appointment must be made. I guess I need to prep my small talk skills for this weekend. Or learn to cut my own hair.