It'ssss ... okay/It doesn't look too bad

I'm heading over to Manchester today to a conference. I've been repeatedly told that I couldn't go 'like that' and I needed a haircut. And truth be told, I did need a good tidy up. Somehow I never quite got to the hairdressers in the village last week. And it's closed on a Monday. Yesterday evening I was given a stark offer. Either she could cut my hair or I was to do it. Let's face it, that's not a great choice. Well I've suffered the former before so I took the sensible option and decided I'd snip away at it. How difficult can it be to cut your own hair? All you need is your head, scissors, a comb and a mirror. The conversation that followed.

'It's better than it was.'
Silence.
'I mean, it'ssss ... okay.'
Hmmm.
'Well it doesn't look too bad.'

How bad is 'too bad?' Oh flip. 'It's better than it was' is going to have to suffice. I'll buy a cap in the airport.

I'm not very prepared for this conference all round. I'm giving a paper with Mark Boyle on diaspora strategy policy and international labour migration. We haven't yet met to discuss it. I'm leaving today, he's leaving Thursday, the paper is Friday at 11am. The encyclopedia launch is Thursday night, which means Friday breakfast is going to be a hungover pow-wow to work out what we're saying and which one of us is saying it. I guess there might be some email flying about before then.