Behind the normalcy of every home lie the quirks, the secrets, the idiosyncracies: the small things that add personality and character (some would say oddness) to each household. Every household has its own taboos, its requirements of family members, and they're impossible to discern from the exterior behavior of the occupants.

Lately, my life has been so boring that I haven't felt like posting anything. I've been doing the same usual boring stuff (washing dishes, going to work, reading the same websites I always do) so I've had absolutely nothing of insight to say.

But, I've been rescued. Jess has something to say about what I should post on domesticat. (302K, mp3 format)

And now for the big news….I am once again shorthaired. yeah, yeah, we all knew this was coming, didn't we? I got to have fun with the stylist today—I got the usual question, "Ummmmmmm, are you SURE you really want to do this?"Yep. So I went from having small wispy bangs and one-length hair that was halfway down my back…to hair that now touches the bottom of my earlobes. Everything below that in the back is buzzed with a #8 guard.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to announce that yes, I have a neck again, and it is visible. :)

Well, I think the two-year mark is when you can stop calling yourself a newlywed. It's about time, too. I hate the moniker "newlywed"—brings up nasty images of things like 'The Newlywed Game.'

That show makes me cringe. There's something about making cutesy fun of your significant other's private details that just makes me recoil in horror. I would be horrified to have some of my personal details (like the ones disclosed on TNG) blared out for everyone to see while they're having their afternoon scooby-snacks.But hey, that's me, and I'm an incredibly private person…who just happens to post her journal online. So what. I never ever claimed to be consistent.

I'm contemplating cutting my hair while I'm in D.C. later this year. Something drastic. My hair is nearly halfway down my back—it grows, bushy and weedlike—and it's that time of summer where I start thinking, 'What if I cut it?'