Facebook-ville.

Frick. A stupid cute guy has convinced me to play a stupid game on Facebook.

D*mn him.

He looked up at me with the cutest coca brown eyes you never saw and said “You’ve got to be my neighbor on Social City!” and because he’s so freaking cute, I said yes.

I have officially become one of those Facebook friends I meticulously block. The ones with constant updates about how they just go the next level and became village president of a fake city in Facebook-ville and how they earned 3 trillion coins for signing on.

And I’m spending all my time waiting for prom dress factory contracts to finish to I can ship them out before they expire, which makes no sense at all, because how the heck do prom dresses expire?

Ug.

:: Hold on. I have to go check on it.::

OK, I’m back. So ya, I don’t even understand how to win. I just keep clicking things it tells me to click and then adding pretty cottages and terrain all over the city.

What I do know is that I refuse (REFUSE!) to spend any actual money on this endeavor. I shall not be purchasing city bucks. No siree.

Unless ,of course, stupid cute guy needs them. Obviously.

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Re: Bottle blonde. Now with pictures!

So, I can admit when my hair looks orange.

And it was definitely orange.

I had dyed it myself Thursday night to save money. (One box of hair dye: $8. Vs. One trip to the salon: $150). But it didn’t come out quite like I expected.  Rather than a beautiful blonde, I was one-part radio active, one-part pumpkin seed and one-part sunset. Sunsets are at least pretty I guess. (Note my use of shadows, so I can live in denial).

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I sucked it up and went to work Friday pretending it was just the awful lighting at my office that made it scream ORANGE from about 30 feet away. But as soon as I got to the comfort of a fellow blonde, my friend Stephanie, I cried out for help. It went something like this:

Me: Um, ya, so I kind of dyed my own hair because I was trying to same money. And I’m not sure if I like it.

Her: Oh. Well, ya. It IS cheaper. Um, it’s not bad, per se. Hmm. Well maybe we could add some brown to it.

Me: I don’t want to be brunette. I want to be blonde.

Her: Hmm. I’m really thinking we should just dye all of it brown.

Me: Sigh. Fine.

And so, the two of us treked off to a Sally Beauty Supply story. Luckily, as Stephanie says, my hair guardian angel was looking out, because the woman at the store was a licensed colorist. She went through the options and we decided to give the blonde another shot seeing as how she said any brown dye would make my hair look dark gold at this point – too close to orange for me.

These are the instructions she gave us:

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For those unfamiliar with hair dye, you should know that each step translates into about three products, 60 minutes and enough damage to make me sincerely worry my hair will start to fall out in clumps.

Basically, I had to do a special treatment to bring back protein (I’m pretty sure the product wasn’t vegetarian friendly). Then, I had to re-dye it blonde with a special ‘no red’ additive to get the autumn orange out, then I had to tone it to get the hair to look less bad-80s, and more Pamela-Anderson. Then I had to condition again. Then, well, lets just say some eyebrow dye was involved.

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– Here you see some of the product mixed together, a paint brush and Stephanie donning professional grade rubber gloves.

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– This picture right here is SACRED. You have just been allowed inside my secret hair dying life. Never speak of this again.

And this, well, this is the after-after picture.

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Much better, right?

I expect my roots to grow out in about three seconds from now, but I’m liking it for the moment. Mostly. I think.

And, for those wondering who the heck Stepahine is, here’s a pic of the two of us before we went out Saturday night:

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Super fun times 🙂

And thanks for fixing my hair Stephanie!!

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Bottle blonde

I’m a little super extremely worried my hair is going to fall out.

Not like when I’m 60 or something, like normal baldness, but right now. Or, well, about 15 minutes from now.

Because of the recession, student loans and an overall lack of an extra $150 to get my hair professionally dyed a lovely shade of blonde, I’m doing it myself.

This will end one of four ways.

1. Every stand will be a day late for St. Patrick’s day.

2. Every strand will fall out. (And then I would cry for a week straight).

3. It will look like a pumpkin pooed on my scalp.

4. Awesome.

I said a prayer for number four, but I’m not sure how much God cares about my hair exactly, seeing as how he’s dealing with Haiti and health care as of late.

Wish me luck.

And don’t worry. I’ll post some pictures of whatever the results turn out to be. (Unless my hair falls out, because then I will be crying hysterically. Sorry in advance).

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