So I usually try not to post too much about my personal woes (because they are mostly boring), but I figured the mood needs lightening up around here so I'll go OT for a minute.
Last week Louie and I took the train down to Richmond, VA to visit my folks. Our house is currently on the market, so I figured it was good to get out of town rather that clean up after Lou constantly.
Now I'm a pretty low-maintenance kind of gal - rarely wear makeup, spend the day in yoga pants and t shirts, don't wear shoes unless I have to - you get my drift (I'm kinda earthy-crunchy). I decided that since my mom would be around to watch Lou that I would do something nice for myself. I decided to get a haircut (which I usually do myself) and highlights (which the sun usually does for me).
I went to one of the hairdressers at my mom's favorite salon. She gave me a trim right before my brother's wedding (I looked like a sheepdog before), and I liked it. So I figured she would be OK to give me a cut and a few highlights

.
Well, it was a busy day in the salon, and my gal slapped some foils on my head, put me under the dryer, and took a few other customers. It seemed like I was under there a loooong time. When she took the foils off, it looked like clumps of wet, white thread fell out. She washed it, dried it, trimmed it, and told me how great it looked. Now being that I don't really know how properly highlighted hair should look, I agreed with her politely. But in reality, I looked like I had aged 20 years.
I got home, and as soon as I stepped out of the car my dad said "well, I can tell you've been riding with Shirley" (my mom's elderly friend who is a wild and crazy driver and had met us for lunch that day). Well, I knew he was making a joke about my hair and wasn't too happy

. Neither was my mom - she chewed him out several times that afternoon.
Anyway, my mom convinced me that I looked stunning, so I decided to live with the hair. I got back to CT and got all these non-compliments like "oooooh - you frosted your hair, good for you." So I decided to darken my hair up - how hard could it be, right???
Well, I bought some stuff that is specifcally meant to cover gray hair. Even though my white strands were brought on by bleach, I figured it would have the same impact and make me normal. The stuff was orange coming out of the tube, but the instructions said that the color of the goo was not necessarily representative of the color that the hair would end up.
My hair is now kind of orangey-brownish.
My stepson says it looks better than it did, but I think that is just another non-compliment.
OK - enough whining - back to work...