$500 worth of hair

All this time I've been living my life, getting my hair cut every six months or so, wearing it in a ponytail or clip when it's too long and I don't know what to do with it, planning to donate it to Locks of Love and occasionally cursing it for being unruly.

All this time and I've never realized how valuable my hair is.

To cut to the chase (no pun intended - really!) - I posted an ad for it on TheHairTrader.com. Within minutes I had an offer. Within days I had six offers. Then just when I was about to finalize my sale for $200 to a girl who wanted to make hair extensions, a $400 offer came in.

$400 he said, or more if he could be present when I cut it.

Mysterious. How much more?

$500. Cash. And he lives in Chicago so would be willing to meet me halfway to get it cut.

Sold!

Except I'm going to Chicago for sister's birthday in two weeks so I'll get it cut then. Cha ching! How 'bout 'dem apples?

Morsels of silly freedom

One unexpected (although it shouldn't have been) side effect of marriage is that alone time is hard to come by.

Pre-marriage, I saw hubby maybe three out of seven days of the week.

Post-marriage, we spend nearly every non-working minute together. Granted, sometimes we are lost in our own little worlds of the Internet (me) and TV (him), but we are usually sitting on the same couch.

I absolutely love this part of marriage.

But a tiny part of me misses the freedom to eat cookies for dinner with no one knowing, or to stay up till 2 a.m. reading wedding blogs, or to go to the gym and run errands for three hours after work and not have to worry about being home to eat dinner with someone.

I think it's for that reason that I stay up till 1:30 a.m. writing blogs and playing on Twitter when P is out of town for business. It's for that reason that I kind of enjoy a night to myself, where I can drink a glass of wine and watch junky TV.

Any more than one night and I'm homesick for my hubs, but one night alone is almost like a treat now.

I'd take marriage over complete independence any day, but little morsels of silly freedom are nice indulgences here and there.

Power I didn't know I had

I'm still getting used to experiencing situations from a new perspective now that I no longer identify myself as a student or a dependent. Recently I've noticed myself looking at families (at church, the grocery store, wherever) and identifying more with the mom than the kids. How freaking crazy is that?

This morning I had a surreal adult experience of another kind.

I went to the bank to try to get three $20 service fees removed from my old checking account before closing the account for good.

After trying to explain my situation to a goober of a personal banker for about 10 minutes and being noncommittally told that he only has the authority to refund me $5, I was calm but a little annoyed. I knew these fees could and should be removed; I just wished I wasn't stuck dealing with this man who seemed inept and none too eager to straighten out my finances.

He called over the manager and determined the problem was because it was an Illinois account, a joint account with my parents, one of my several remaining legal ties to my youth.

Honestly, I just wanted the fees removed so I could get to work on time. I explained that I thought the fees were an error, or at the very least unfair, hoping there would be some legitimate banking reason to back me up.

"Well, let's take a look at the accounts," the manager said.

The goober told me it would be inappropriate to discuss my parents' accounts with me, but he and the banker pulled them up on the computer next to my accounts.

"Here is their account..." Goober said with an exaggerated sideways glance to the manager. My parents' account apparently flicking on a light bulb in her head, she now nodded in enthusiastic approval, "Oh yeah, yeah, we'll definitely remove these fees."

The goober murmured in agreement and they both assured me everything would be taken care of.

I was in slight disbelief as I watched the situation unfold. Now, I definitely think those fees should have been removed regardless, but I was just shocked by how easy it suddenly became once the bankers feasted their eyes upon the undoubtedly large dollar sign that is my parents' account. The money they saw in my parents gave me a new power -- one you see in the movies but never think little old you could actually wield. 

I think all customers should be treated well if a company intends to keep their business, and it makes perfect sense to bend over backwards (not that they did in this situation) to keep their more invested clientele happy, but it just made me feel a little uncomfortable. I'm grateful to be treated well, but I wish it were because they cared about me and not just my money.

Welcome to the real world, I suppose.