My hair is the reason you should buy stock in CVS

Now that I just poured orange vegetable soup down my cream-colored blouse, I feel compelled to share with you the OTHER thing you'll notice about me today.

My hair.

Or rather, the mistake on top of my head.

The conversation went something like this:

Stylist: "Your hair THEEN." (Lifts limp, lifeless strand in disgust.)

Me: (frowny face) "What would make it thicker?"

Stylist: "Go DAHK. Dahk haya ees THEEK. Eet coats strand."

Me: ::blinkblink:: "Rly??"

Stylist: "YES."

Me: "Fine."

[One hour and $120.00 later...]

Me: (looking in mirror) "Aaahh!!!"

Me: (running to drugstore, buying highlighting kit.) "Maybe it will look less, um, SEVERE if I put streaks in it."

[One hour and $11.00 later...]

Me: "Aaaahhhhh!! I look like Tigger!!"

Me: (running BACK to drugstore, buying more dye) "Must... cover... orange!!"

[One Hour and $6.99 later...]

Me: "Aaaahhhhhh!!!"

So you see the theme here to my labor day weekend? Yes?

Anyway, if you see me, yes, my hair is darker. Yes, I hate it. No, I'm not touching it again. Let it wash out over time. Anyone selling a bridge? If it comes with someone promising nice tresses, I may need you to NOT introduce us.

Note: I took this pic to supplement my blog post
(no longer wearing stained shirt!)