a tragic tale of woe

as opposed to a tragic tale of laughter, obviously. although, now that i think about it, i really did a remarkable amount of laughing at my own expense yesterday.

but i digress.

yesterday i spent not one, not two, not three, not even four hours fixing the mess i had made of my hair.

four and a half bloody hours at a salon getting the maroon corrected into something somewhat natural-looking.

i cried three times, although making sure the salon stylist wasn't around while doing so.

i have a seemingly permanent kink in my neck from resting with my head in a sink. while i think having your hair shampooed at a salon is one of the greatest feelings in the world, even that got old real quick. anyone want to give me a neckrub?

but the important information. that which you are dying (get it? dye-ing? HA! i kill me!) to know. what is it like now?

well, after four and a half hours, four or five different colors and the loss of three inches, my hair looks quite nice, i'm happy to say. not ideal, by any means, but not maroon and i've been paid quite a few compliments today (granted, they all also saw the hair yesterday, so anything would be an improvement).

i'm never - and i mean it this time - going to use at-home hair color EVER AGAIN.

but, during one instance last night in which i told my tragic tale (over speakerphone to my aunt, uncle and parents in the rainy, yet much warmer, land of utah), i found that i was not the only stupid person with welch blood in her veins yesterday.

i think my aunt topped me (and i have permission to tell this tale for my online readers - that's how foolish she is. i love it.). at least i didn't cause myself to bleed.

my aunt did. how, you ask? by poking a hole in her hand (albeit a small hole) with the corner of an ice cube. why, you ask? because there were several cubes stuck together and she decided to "judo chop" them apart. unfortunately, the ice cube mass won.

she got back at them, though. she took the insulting ice cubes, placed them in the sink and ran warm water over them, laughing as they slowly melted away.

a cruel and unusual punishment in the ice cube world. she's a savage, i tell you.

there's nothing quite like having an absolutely kickass interview and knowing that you showed that you're a good reporter. especially when other people are around and you show them that you have better questions than they do.

nah nah nah-nah nah ...