I'm sitting here at the computer watching the clock.
You see, I have hair dye in my hair at the moment, and I am trying very hard to resist the idea that I want to cut my hair (Yes, Shayla, you inherited that trait from your dear old auntie!).
I'm starting to reach a weird point with my hair. I really hate the gray roots, but I really love all of the other colours that show up just before it is time to dye my hair. At about 8 weeks on, I have at least 8 different shades of reddish brown going through my hair as well as the grays. And then when I dye it, I end up with one boring shade. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
But lately, I really hate what my hair is telling me it wants to do. I feel so damned old and frumpy! And that is not how a gal who has lost almost 20 pounds ought to be feeling! So I'm contemplating cutting my hair. Layers. Lots of layers. And maybe bangs for a change. But I know me. Me and bangs don't always get along well. They're high maintenance. I'm a wash it, brush it and run out the door kind of gal. And in a normal world, that would be okay. But I work with a group of younger, gorgeous gals. Gals who never have a bad hair day. I have TONS of bad hair days!
So, I'm thinking maybe once I rinse out the gooey dye, I just may get out my sharpest scissors.
Is there a Patron Saint of Good Hair Cuts? Cuz if there is, I need her to watch over me! :o)
I have a vacation day tomorrow! W00t!
Hubby and I are going to do our taxes now that we're back on line (halleluia!).
And then we are going to go somewhere special!
We normally go out to breakfast on Sundays. As of late, it's been Dirk's Truck Stop. They make an excellent Chicken Fried Steak. However, a few weeks ago, we packed up the kid and sent him to Grandma's for the night while we went out to party, and the next day, we went out to breakfast just the two of us. We went to Pilara's on Main Street.
When we entered Pilara's, I really liked they way they inexpensively charmed up the place. It's an old building, but they really have a hip cafe vibe happening. And as we sat at one of their decoratively hand painted tables and looked at the menu, I said to Hubby "Uh oh, this is a fu-fu place, Honey." His response was "Could be, but the coffee is excellent!" So we ordered some food.
I tried their french toast. Oh. My. Gawd!!!!! Firstly, no matter what you order, they offer you some waldorf salad as an appetizer. It's been decades since I've had waldorf salad. I'd forgotten how much I like it! And then came the French Toast. This is not regular bread frenched up. This is a flavoured bread that they cook as french toast, and then layer it with pecans and walnuts and give you a CUTE little urn of syrup to drizzle on top of it all. It was pure heaven!
I told Hubby "If we ever win the lottery, I want Pilara's to feed me every day!"
Ever since that visit, we have been jonesing to go back there. But, alas, The Child would never eat anything off of their menu. The need has become so great that last Sunday, I put a bowl of Honey Combs in front of the kid and said "Here. You will eat this. And when you are finished, we are going to a restaurant for breakfast where you won't like any of their food. You will come with us. You will be full. You will behave. You will like it."
Then, we jumped in the van and headed to Pilara's... only to find that they are closed on Sundays.
I was crestfallen!
But tomorrow, the kid is in school! Hubby and I can enjoy a top of the line meal without hearing our 8 year old saying "I'm hungry! Their fries have green stuff on them. There are black flecks too. I don't like salad. Where's the bathroom?" (You can picture me rolling my eyes, can't you!).
Well, it's time to wash out the goo! Wish me luck!
P.S. Okay, so I was right. I do hate the bangs. But all in all, I didn't do too bad of a hack job.
Perhaps there IS a Patron Saint Of Good Hair Cuts!
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