Lately my hair has been getting longer on one side than on the other. I think it's because I sit by a window but other people said it was because I did a bad job cutting it.

Everyone says I should get it cut by a professional hairstylist but the problem is my hair acts more like a liquid or a gas than a solid - it fills whatever space it's given so the size and shape and texture and molecular breakdown depend on the day. It seems more like a job for a scientist than a hairstylist.

I went to a professional anyway. I brought this list of things I wanted changed:

I DON'T WANT TO LOOK LIKE: Someone who owns a minivan, a child under the age of six, someone who doesn't shave, a talk show host, or a drug addict.
I DO WANT TO LOOK LIKE: Someone you would be fine with sitting by on the bus.

My hairstylist said that was pretty helpful. Feel free to copy/paste that and bring it to your next haircut.

My hairstylist has cut John C Reilly's hair before. What are the odds? John C Reilly sounds like someone I would love to meet.

My hairstylist says that since my hair is closer to chinchilla fur than human hair, hair products are all going to be pretty hopeless so should just mat it down with a generous amount of hand lotion every morning until it's small enough that I can walk through doorways.

"Any brand of hand lotion. But really massage it in," she said. "Your hair's going to fight it."

Considering my other haircuts have been zero dollars and this haircut was many dollars I thought it would look pretty good but instead I look like a bombshell. It's incredible how great my hair looks. It looks so small.

I am smiling in this photo but this is important: the smile is for MY MOM'S EYES ONLY because she hates that I don't smile in photos. But look at the haircut part - does this look like the hair of a five-year-old van-driving drug-addict talk show host? Definitely not as much as it did a week ago.

I'm out of chinchilla photos but check out these rats playing instruments:

And sit by me on the bus, this seat's totally available. I'm just a friendly-looking girl who's real into rats.

I hope you never need to know how to not freak out about thousands of spiders in your apartment, but just in case you do.

1. Pretend they’re pets

My landlord doesn’t allow pets but I’ve found a genius workaround, spider pets. “Spider pets, spider pets, spider pets” I repeat to myself over and over again while I watch them crawl around in the shower or climb from the middle of the floor to the ceiling suspended in midair. These loving little adorable animals are under my care. I am so lucky.

2. Kill them

This seems in direct opposition to the first technique but it works just as well: spraying large amounts of poison on them or smashing them with my Doc Martens.

3. Think about bugs I don’t have

Last summer was the Summer of Millipedes which, as catchy as it sounds, was so horrible. Now the spiders eat the millipedes. They feast on them really, one millipede is like a table’s worth of steak for these spiders. So, good thing I don’t have millipedes anymore?

4. Have nightmares scarier than them

Last week I had a dream that I lost my face in an accident, and found a free face in the mail, but it was my coworker's face and the surgery went really wrong. Good luck scaring me now, spiders.

Here are pictures of apartments without spiders, to break up the text and to remind me to be thankful that at least I don't have cats.