It’s a bad sign when the first thing people at work say to you when they see your newly-dyed (again) hair is “what have you done?!?” This simultaneously compels me to stop f-ing around with my ‘do, and also run to Shoppers immediately for a bottle of Ordinary Chestnut brown dye. Damn. I feel dreadful about the hair, it’s making me feel old that I can’t just get away with any colour I want to anymore. Seems I’m doomed to brown.
Wearing the grumpy pants this morning, due to lack of caffeine, woman on bus wearing atrocious quantities of stinky perfume, and choosing to buy a milk at the subway convenience store because it was “healthy”. Except, of course, that I’m lactose intolerant.
Why doesn’t the Toronto Transit Commission get their act together and install Starbucks or Tim Hortons in all of their subway lobbies – it would resolve all my transit rage issues. Cheaper fare and faster access to tea and coffee. Bring on the corporate whoring!
Am going with Justin and the Snail folks to see “Alien vs. Predator” tonight. Worried about nightmares, but it’s only make believe.
Bathroom is coming along well. When I came home yesterday, Greg was framing the tub area and the drop ceiling. The sink should arrive today.
I’m tired. I think I’m tired of mess. I need to take time off work and just fully unpack and clean my home.
If AvP is rubbish I will cry.
No, seriously.
Cut it out!
*head pat*
And since our hair in its natural state is just about the exact same colour, I say go with good ol’ brown. We don’t have the complexion to be blonde (me even less so than you). But people at work should not be mean, that’s what *I* do. But I do it in my own special way. As in, “Holy crap Moi. That’s pretty creative. Did you have your glasses on when you did that?”
Smmmmoooooch!
AVP – not at all interested because I am SURE that I would have the most horrific nightmares ever. Of course, C. may want to see it (since his favourite movie is “Pitch Black”).
Take a day off and unpack. Call in with a severe case of Ebola, it’s warranted.
it’s making me feel old that I can’t just get away with any colour I want to anymore. Seems I’m doomed to brown.
I know what you mean. I splurged on wussy highlights recently because I finally admitted I’m too chicken to use the henna that’s been moldering in the bathroom cupboard for months. There is fear that I can’t hack bright colours anymore and therefore should start looking into either seniors’ homes or an aging-soprano burgundy perm.
What exactly did you do to your hair? It can’t be that bad, you’re all funky and pull stuff off easily.
Or a moderately annoying case of 24-hour Rabies?
-caellum
I will post a quickie “rubbish/no rubbish” review either tonight or first thing in the morning.
Maybe I will call it the “cry/no cry” review.
Or the “dry pant bottoms/wet pant bottoms” review.
Ooh, look at me, building tension.
I am not planning to wet my pants, either way.
No more milk. Cider only for me from here on in.
Note to self: remember to restock fridge with Strongbow for weekend
Very excited that you are coming to see my house, btw!!!
I was contemplating the decisively incapacitating, yet impossible to confirm/deny, “migraine”.
Or, since it’s a Friday, the “sprained ankle” approach, which could easily be healed by Monday – problem being, one of my co-workers is coming over to visit on Sunday.
Then there’s the classic Ferris Bueller “stomach cramp and clammy palms” symptoms. Or Cameron’s delightfully non-specific “dying” excuse. Or the more subtle homage to the film’s relentless search for freedom, little sister Jeannie’s “bleeding out my eyes” scenario.
Ferris: Incredible! One of the worst performances of my career and they never doubted it for a second.
Alternately, I could always just ask for the day off.
If C’s favorite movie is “Pitch Black”, can I please buy you a complete set of “Chronicles of Riddick” action figures for your wedding shower, as decoration for your lovely turn-of-the-century home? They’re not selling very fast at the Snail, and we’re looking for innovative ways to get rid of them. 😉
Je t’aime aussi.
Sadly, I am less with the funk these days. It’s the relentless barrage of office wardrobe that’s pulling me down. Since I’ve moved up in job classification, I no longer get to indulge in “casual Fridays”, so it’s dress pants, skirt, dress pants, skirt, and then the weekend is over so quickly, it’s as though I shouldn’t even bother with blue jeans anymore. Also, weight gain hasn’t helped me with my internal funk-o-meter. I feel more chunky, less funky.
The hair is still gingery orange, but with new and shocking chunks of flame red sprinkled here and there. You can take a good long laugh at it on the weekend. *sobs*
I think you would 100% rock out in a burgundy perm. And if you are being drawn to the ancient henna box, just go for it, and the hell with cruel coworkers. What do they know?
Dude, NOBODY rocks out in a burgundy perm. And call me crazy but your hair sounds awesome. I will pass stern judgment on the weekend.
I discovered jeans again this year and now life would not be worth living without them. I have a fair amount of too-casual-for-work clothing now and sometimes on the too-short weekends I want to act like a princessy six-year-old and change clothes every two hours, to make sure all my cute t-shirts and jeans and sweats get fair play. Besides, my chubster status looks better in them than in all my too-tight work clothes. Feh.
I think that the burgundy perm could be cute, though.
LMAO
Possibly a giat ccrab is stuckin your womb, trying to get out? No one will ask any questions about that condition. That neatly segueways into me asking if you enjoyed the crabvspipe.mpeg? It’s in your second to last entry, I believe.
-caellum, robster craw
Just wet whoever’s you’re wearing at the time then.