A win.

When the crap did it get cold again?

That’s kind of lame.

I was all ready to pack up my winter coat, and burn my mittens, and put a W in the spring-has-sprung column, but no. It’s below freezing and people are talking about the s word – IN APRIL.

Whatever.

Moving on.

I totally won my NCAA March Madness pool at work.

Out of 46 people!

I know nothing about basketball. I barely know how many players are on each team (It’s five right?). But I read this article in Slate and it told me to pick Duke and I did and I won!!!

Like a lot.

I haven’t gotten the money yet because apparently the pool organizer is in Florida (if he’s spending it, I will kill him be very mad), but when I do get the money, I’m going be so much richer.

Seriously.

WOOT-WOOT!

I’ve come close to winning these kinds of things in the past. Like in grad school, I got like second place out of like 40 people (and managed to anger some serious basketball fans). But close doesn’t count in these kinds of things.

Luckily this time was different.

I won it all. YAY!

So ya, also, umm, keeping off the weight is going to be something I struggle with every day of my life for the rest of my life and if I ever get pregnant or something I might have a panic attack from the stress of it all.

I literally weigh myself everyday.

Usually twice.

And if I gain even one pound, I re-access and work-out extra.

It’s been said that the only thing harder than losing weight is keeping it off, and I’m worried as crap that it will all come back in like a week.

The hardest thing is the constant choice I have to make to drink water. I still like soda, but it’s bascially hundreds of hidden little stupid calories in each one, so I have to keep on keeping on with the H2O. And I have to say, “Crystal, it’s OK. Your meal will be OK if you have a water instead of a soda. You will still like it.” to myself each and every time.

It’s only been about two months since I’ve gone from losing to maintaining, and each day that I don’t go over 145 I count as a win.

Today, so far, is a win.

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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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