So, guys, I dyed my hair. Yeah, after that blog title, THAT’S what I’m going to start with. I like when my hair is bright red, so it was time to redye it with the original hair dye I used the first time. Spoiler alert, my hair really faded, but, other spoiler alert, I kind of liked the color it was. I just get bored if my hair is a normal color and I don’t do well when I’m bored, plus, everyone thinks I’m cute when my hair is normal, and that shit needs to stop.
That being said, I really miss when I had all the colors in my hair, so I was going back and forth about what color to add when my awesome British friend from The Historical Society pointed out that if I put blue in my hair after dying my hair red that I will be very Olympic. I agreed, so blue it was. Instead of bleaching out my hair, I got real hair extensions. Because I’m a girl who feels really stupid right now, let’s be Chatty Kathys and talk about hair and add some pictures. That seems like a sane thing to do in a time like this.
This is my hair before. I kind of dug the color, but grays were jumping out at me and my hair practically glowed red in the sunlight, except for my roots. People never believe me when I tell them I’m graying at twenty-six, and this picture does absolutely nothing to help my liar, liar status. But just know that the guy in Sprint asked me if I dropped my phone a lot today, I told him no, he bought it, and I retracted my statement and told him yes. I am that bad of a liar.
On a side note, let’s ignore my face. Yes, I beat up my lip, which, after a snake bite and a tick bite that caused Lyme disease just seems like a lame failed attempt at maiming me. No, I’m not wearing much makeup. Later I will be wearing none. If you have weak stomachs or there are children in the room, shield the eyes. I’m kidding, I look the same all the time, with or without makeup. I’m just really white. Also, yeah, I took my own pictures like it’s 1998 and this is Myspace, and yeah, I did it in my bathroom, but when there’s no one there to hold the camera and I needed the comfort of air conditioning, crap happens, then you die.
This is the color I dye my hair with, in case any of you want to use it. This is also a picture of what it looks like on, in case any of you want to use it, so that no one is running around crying because their hair is going to turn out pink and praying the salon is open late and cheap, while trying to get it off and simultaneously drown their sorrows in a bowl of Rocky Road Ice Cream. Yes, the duck face was totally necessary. I’ve never gotten to do it before. I’m done doing it now. Never again. Pinky swear.
This is my hair after. Obviously. I guess this didn’t need a caption.
In case you can’t see how bright this color actually is, voila!
As I mentioned, bleach and my hair sounded like an unhappy party, so I went to Sally Beauty Supply and bought real hair extensions. If you’re interested in getting them, they’re below.
I’ve never used clip in extensions before, and I wasn’t sure how to put them in or if they would blend. They’re super easy, you can’t see the clips no matter how hard you try to screw things up, and being real human hair you can style them. Creepy, yes. Efficient, also yes. Once they were in, I was a happy camper with hair like this. And, let’s face it, someone’s got to be a happy camper today.
For other things that make me happy, let me tell you a story. As I mentioned, I couldn’t even lie to the Sprint guy today. He was merely suggesting that if I dropped my phone a lot, and if by a lot he means three or four times a day, then I should get a phone cover because it will absorb the shock of the drop. Huh, I always thought those things were useless contraptions that made your phone look pretty. I learned something new today. He encouraged me to trek on over to a local store where I could get a cover for a couple of bucks. I got one with owls. OWLS, you guys! I have a mild obsession with things with owls on them. The other day, I wore a sticker of an owl for no other reason than it made me happy. There’s therapy for this, right? But seriously, guys, look how cute!
Although I’m sitting here trying to avoid the tagline of this blog header, I realize I can’t avoid it for too long. I have a motto, and that’s if someone isn’t laughing at my pain, I’m doing something wrong. When I get mad or really upset and hurt, I tend to go into a rant worthy of an Amy Sherman Palladino show. I can’t help it, I don’t try to do it, it just comes out. At least one time in my rant someone will, without a doubt, burst out laughing. They think I’m offended by this, but when I go back over what I said, I realize it’s pretty funny. Some highlights from tonight include:
“The obvious solution is to kill him, but I don’t agree with murder and I don’t want to get my clothes dirty, and murder involves blood and mud and car trunks and dragging and digging, and it’s too much work!”
“Maybe it’s me. I try to do things right and be kind and talk to people first when I’m unsure. If it’s me, that’s easily fixable because instead of wanting to kill the guys, I can just kill myself, and then if I get blood on my shirt, no big deal. Dead people don’t need clothes. By the way, feel free to raid my closet in the event of my untimely death.”
For those of you who know me, you know I’m the person least likely to ever commit murder, ever. I’m also the least likely person to ever kill myself, ever. Thus why these are funny.
At one point, when I thought my mom was in bed and asleep, I had a little incident with the dogs. I had no plans on ranting to anyone, but I was getting them a cookie and this happened.
“What, you don’t want this cookie? You don’t want a Quack? You’re going to be picky? Well, you know what happens when I want things? They don’t call, they don’t talk to me, they don’t say, ‘hey, what’s up.’ They don’t say, ‘hey, I’m getting back to you about that thing you asked me to get back to you about.’ They just wait until I tell them I like them, and then they seem fine with it, but they don’t call, they don’t talk to me. You know why, because you can’t always get what you want!”
I heard my mom laughing clear from the other room. She wasn’t asleep