Digging for Brains...
Coming up Short
Sooo, I went for my haircut. Yay!
I arrive at the hairdresser's and I wait...and wait...and wait...
I have been seeing the same hairdresser since there were VHS tapes (WOW - I totally just dated myself...age-wise, not like I really want to take myself for a candle-lit dinner).
Apparently she didn't recognize me: "I didn't realize you were here! I didn't recognize you with all that hair!" (And I picture in my head I became some freakish Cousin It, FRIGHTENING!)
I'm led to the chair (not the electric one - even if it is nearing the "End of Days: Mayan Style") and we decide to get rid of my hair cloak.
"If we're going to color, we won't need this!" She gathers my hair in a bunch in the back and WHACK - off a bundle goes on the floor. I start to laugh - a bit hysterically.
Then it's color time! I'm going Kick Your Ass Red (that's not the official name, but it should be). My hairdresser is teaching another girl as she works on my hair.
"Normally we add something to tone down the color when the hair is light like this so it doesn't go bright, but we're not going to do that here," she explains.
"That's right," I say. "Because we're not about subtle."
The girl looks a little surprised...not to mention nervous. I suppose she's not used to unstable customers being sassy.
The color goes on and starts to look like bloody red goop ALL OVER my head. I can't help it, I'm laughing. The stylists look at me - understandably concerned.
"You look like zombies on a hunt for brains with blood all over your hands," I explain as I'm giggling away. A little inappropriate I suppose considering it's MY head I'm imagining they're digging in.
They look down at their gooey, red gloves and my messy scalp with raised eyebrows.
"And I'm a little concerned you're going to be terribly disappointed."
If You're Going to Hate Me, Dog...
I have the best behaved dog in the world, and she hates me.
Daisy hardly ever barks, doesn't whiz in the house, you can literally eat with food in your lap and she'll lay beside you and turn her head away...
But there is NO FUN in her world! Oh, I've tried to get her to play - but I think it's against her religion. She's a Nofunitarian. And she takes it VERY seriously. I've tried to lead her into temptation with balls, ropes, chewies, stuffed toys... I even tried to BRIBE her into playing with CHEESE.
WOW... Sounds like the old "had to tie a pork chop around your neck to get the dog to play with you" story...
I'm pretty sure she's not really a dog. She might be a stuffie...or a robot. Or maybe I wrecked her.
I tell her I'm going to trade up. Maybe there's a dog dealership somewhere.
"One Chihuahua, slightly used, excellent condition, small mental issues..."
On a Side Note...
My oldest son says he wants false teeth so he can bounce them on the deck... I have QUESTIONS.
1. Do they make them out of rubber?
2. Do you use the 5-second rule?
3. Can the Tooth Fairy afford this?
4. What do you EAT when you have rubber teeth?
5. What kind of sound does your mouth make when you HAVE rubber teeth? Like squeaky shoes in the hallway? Or boing boing?
...And I have officially considered it WAY too long.