So, I've done something drastic.

Drastic for someone who doesn't like to leave the cat alone anymore, that is. I've dyed my hair. Red, you say? Another lovely ruby shade? Golden brown? Lavender?

Nope. Not even close. Try the fucking opposite of all those.





Don't you just love him? He's such a model/drama queen/8 year old boy.

I was really nervous about the color at first. I remember (and so may some of you...Erin) when I had black hair before. It was 7th grade. I wore my Dad's old leather bomber jacket every single day, snuggling into the cow-y folds, the lovely ketchup'n'milk-mix stains (thanks, Erin again). I never wore deodorant. I didn't shower. I would have fit in amongst the 20 somethings of Portland eerily well. My hair hung all the way down my back, and I had never plucked my eyebrows. I didn't like boys. It was a difficult time.

Thinking back, I'm getting that same feeling of "oh shiiiiiit" that I got right after Tasha had finished helping me dye it the first time, almost 10 years ago. Like, "crap, this does not look good. This looks weird. Too dramatic. I look ridiculous, it'll never wash out. And what the hell is the matter with my eyebrows?!"

Funny thing, though.

There is ONLY ONE surviving photograph of me with black hair in 7th grade. I was posing with my father and sister, wearing a pale green dress that Dad was in love with. I didn't care for it so much. But hey, I was a minor. I had no choice. Anyway, long story shorter, that picture sits on Dad's desk, and when W first came home with me he saw it and commented. Then the next time we went to GA, he searched for it, found it, and told me again how pretty I had looked.

I pointed out my eyebrows.

He was like, "yeah, that's weird." But my beloved maintained that the overall effect was attractive. I cannot think of one single second in 7th grade when I felt even remotely attractive. WHERE WERE YOU THEN, BABY? HUNH?!? Where we you then?

What the hell am I talking about, he was in college. Duh.

ANYWAY, I'm getting to my point, I swear. The thing is, every time I've talked about dyeing my hair, W has suggested black. Not that he didn't like the red, you understand. Not that I didn't always look fantastic. But wouldn't I, you know, like to try it?

So I made it happen, just in time for the work Christmas party. Those pictures are from right before we left for the restaurant. I adore that shirt, and I'm quite happy about the hair as well. Maybe I'm more comfortable with drama these days? Somehow my eyebrows have matured. They've...they've finally started to look after themselves, to take pride in their appearance.

I think that they...are they wearing...mascara?

*wink*

The party was crazy. Drunken. Often uncomfortable. Which is another post entirely. A post that I've got to find a way to privatize, because I check this stupid site at work. Stories of former employees who were found advertising for "hot sex no commitments" on craigslist abound. But what, prey tell, was Management doing surfing the craigslist personals on behalf of the company? Hmmm? If I don't post about my week (and we all know how dedicated I am to this aforementioned "stupid site"), then I'll talk to you all individually later.

I've got the whole week after Christmas off from work...Thanks Management! If you're reading this! Although I desperately pray that you are not, because I don't want to have to cower and move again!

*cough* Awkward. Yeah, very awkward. I don't want to think about this.

But what I was getting at, is that you buddies will be hearing from me. Oohhh yes. You will.

Concerned yet? Nah?

Really? Not at all?

You guys suck. I'm hardcore. I'm scary. I'll slap a bitch.

*sigh*

Sail got me thinking about tattoos again, and I'm serious about wanting another one. I already have it picked out (mostly). I'll write about that later, too.