July 23, 2018

by - 10:28 PM

So, great news. I achieved the last great mistake of my 20's with a bottle of pink hair dye and twenty minutes. That's actually a pretty hopeful suggestion though, because I still have all day tomorrow to toss the dice and fuck up a few more times before closing the lid on this decade.

You guys, I spent spent way too much time casually googling things like "blush hair" and "Kristin Ess Rose Gold Tint" -- which you should do, because you'll see the cotton candy shades I was seeing and trust me, you'll get it. I was thinking this would be all like when Steve Martin had a brief life crisis in Father of the Bride II and dyed his hair black and felt like a new person indeed. I forgot that he looked like a dork and his wife laughed at him.

Spoiler alert: my hair did not turn out like the pictures on Google, and really I'm pretty sure it was just the universe telling me:

  1. Chick, you are too old for pink hair. You were too old for pink hair five years ago. 
  2. Also, you have a job with fairly general expectations of professionalism. 
  3. And didn't you learn this lesson circa 2010? You 👏 cannot 👏 be 👏 trusted 👏 with 👏 hair dye!
That last one - yeah. I swore I'd never buy a box of 10$ hair dye again if Jesus would pop right on down from Heaven for a hot minute and rescue me from my self inflicted version of hell.  I was 22 and I had green hair that cost me $400 and six months to reverse. Also, I cried in the shower and called in sick to work, and yet, lesson not learned. Here we are. 

In all honesty, this is a very classic level of overreacting - a skill I've carefully and consistently cultivated all these years. My hair isn't making me cry. It's just making me roll my eyes, because it's just not what Google promised me. Now, fingers crossed, the box will make good on its own pledges, and it'll be as temporary as the box suggests. Please please please God. 


So the weekend. It was fast, because it always is, but also it rained and was kind of gloomy, which I think just slowed things down a little. Ry's mom got a new puppy last week, so I took Duke over to go meet him. His name is Bob and D can actually say that, so he's just running around all over the place yelling "Bob!" "Bob! Bob! Bob!"

Then my niece Hayden rode up with Ryan on Sunday afternoon. She and I promptly packed up the baby, went for a drive, and swung through McDonalds to get our fat girl on. I figured I better squeeze in one last calorie bomb meal before my metabolism crashes and burns later this week. Ha!


Okay! Let's talk links, because that's my favorite part:

Do you want to share in my pink hair experience? Here's what I used

A to-do list for all the fun things we want to do? Hand me my pen, please.  

I love this! May we all grow up to be Glamorous Grandmas on Instagram. Or whatever social media exists in the 2050's. 

I finally starting reading Gone Girl, about three years after everyone else. Nick, Nick, Nick -- I'm not sure about you, fool. 

I made these Ritz cracker cookies yesterday, and they were gone before we went to sleep. 

Summery jeans. Post pregnancy, I like high-waisted jeans and the universe shone kindly upon me by making them trendy. And AE make the best washes. 


Happy Monday - it's basically over!

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