The Roof is on Fire

This morning I woke up (after hitting the snooze button a half of a gazillion times) and stumbled into the bathroom to, you know, handle the morning business. I normally don’t even look at myself until I’ve showered, lotioned, dressed, applied hair calming product and picked up the blow dryer. This morning as I was walking past the bathroom mirror, I caught a startling look at something that was definitely not normal.

I have blonde hair.

Not all over. But there’s some definite blonde-ness happening at the top of my head.

I stopped to stare at my head, pulling pieces of it up and away from my head while gazing at it under the glare of the obnoxiously bright bathroom lights.

Yep. It’s blonde.

And I’m pretty sure I asked for it. Yeah, I did. Ask for it. And I even pointed to a picture indicating that yes, I wanted this color hair.

And you know what?

I LOOK LIKE A ROCKSTAR.

Not really. But I’m personally sporting hair of which I am a mighty big fan. It’s currently not excessively frizzy. It’s not sprouting up nests on the side of my head. I can brush it (you think I jest. It took an hour worth of thinning it out by my hairdresser to get it to look like this.) It’s BEE YOO TEE FULL.

As beeyooteefull as my hair can be, anyway.

*Just showed Kasi and got friend approval. I am, in fact, a rockstar.

Randomness:

Boys are scrumpdiddlyumptious. I mean, just yummy and tasty and would like to nibble. How is it possible for boys to be so very, very edible?

Smacks hand on forehead.

NO. Focus.

Eating a delicious tootsie roll pop. Grape. My favorite. Only like grape flavor on tootsie roll pops. Do not know why.

Footsie update: HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD IT STILL HURTS. When does this END? I look like a GIANT FREAK OF NATURE. Thank GOD it’s not sandal season.

Work today is not going so bad. I got a manageable amount of deals to work on today. Stress level has gone dooooowwwwnn.

I smell like honeysuckles. I love my perfume. It makes me happy. I do not care if you people like it or not. I think I smell lovely and delicious. So there.

And I don’t care if you people like my hair (specifically, my brother). I like my hair. In fact, if I had the money, I would get it done even MORE contrast-y and rockstar-y. So THERE.

My hairdresser has a collection of vibrators. ???? This was discussed after re-coloring my hair last night and over a plate of eggs and pancakes at IHOP. The waiter about shat himself.

Goober. <---I hate this word. It sounds like booger. I hate boogers. Except for the shiny booger on the side of my nose. I like that. But it’s not a mucus booger. Mucus is nasty. Have you seen that commercial for Mucinex with the nasty booger thing that talks? Ugh. Makes me want to vomit and clean out my nostrils with peroxide.

Okay. So I’ve typed on this ALL DAY and now it’s time to go home. Yay!! Freedom!!