I have comic book hair and I'm thrilled to pieces with it. Red hair just wasn't doing it for me. I could never get used to it in the mirror and I knew that darker hair suited me better anyway. Back to brown (and purple and green) for me.
I have had a crazy ridiculous no-holds-barred kind of flu these past few days. Shivers, fevers, headaches, and shakes, they've all come to the Banana Party. Well, they are NOT INVITED BACK. I've had it up to my achy swollen eyeballs and I'm not taking anymore. Insane Flu Thing, you had better be gone soon if you know what's good for you. . . (I find it best to leave threats vague as I've never had to follow up on one and wouldn't know what to do.)
THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENS IN LA I glanced out the window of my taxi as I was going home tonight and looked directly into a big glass fronted hair salon, a shinyscary ode to Style and Expense and Design. There was only one customer that I could see and one stylist and the stylist, he was wearing sunglasses. It was nighttime and this guy, he is so cool that he is actually impeding his ability to do his job and his customer doesn't even mind. The customer is, like, "This guy is AWESOME. I don't even care what I end up looking like as a man who has essentially blinded himself goes at my head with a pair of scissors." If he dies, his death will be one of the top ten most stylish in history. Up there with such luminaries as Marie Antoinette and all of the Medici's.
The guy with(out) the thumb is fine. I saw him on Monday and the thumb, it has been reattached. Hooray for modern medicine and science! I, also, am fine. Hooray for NyQuil and long naps! My dog proved useless in the nursing department. I was constantly dragging myself out of my sickbed to take him on walks and he never, not once, made me soup. I'm only keeping him because I'm sure no one else would ever take him. Useless.His fur growth has reached the optimal cuteness stage. He looks super huge (as huge as a ten pound dog gets, anyway) and fluffy and I'm not sure he can see past the cloud of curls that's hanging over his eyes anymore. ADORABLE!
Is it sad that I've really got nothing to talk about except my dog? Have I become one of those people? I talk about other things, too, I swear I do. I talk about things like shoes. And ships. And sealing wax. And cabbages and kings. And my cat. He's still alive so, you know, that's good.