The little black fuckers are back. I don't know what for. There's nothing left in the office but books and baby toys. They just wander on my desk, looking stupid and going in circles.
Napalm. I'm telling you.
And THEN - I tryed dying my hair tonight with Wilton paste food coloring. IT SHOULD HAVE WORKED, damn it. I used the same formula as when people dye wool (heat, etc) and it should have STUCK. Hair is hair. Wool, alpaca, my head, doesn't MATTER. Instead it all washed out (imagine the goriest bathtub murder scene you've ever witnessed, substitute pink for the red, and that's what my shower looked like) and it's stuck in the fricking grout of our cheap-ass tub which probably hasn't been re-grouted since the Reagan administration. I'd love to blame all this on the drugs but considering my hair's been purple for the last six months, I don't think that's gonna fly.
So an entire evening wasted and my hair's still white. Next time I'm thinking Lanaset. (Kidding.)
Plus tomorrow I have to pack up my life to spend the day in the Suburban Wednesday to spend a week in Ohio. OHIO.
Bah.
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2 comments:
photos of the hair! Photos of the hair!! Please?
I read the post before this one--you're just lucky you don't have the "I'm a ball" song from Dora the Explorer...it makes you want that pencil so you can shove it in your own eyeball. Sorry about the hair thing...I think my husband keeps lying about the gray in my hair so he doesn't have to deal with me dying my hair and screwing it up.
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