Saturday, January 22, 2005

Feria Therapy, Yurt 101

You'll be glad to know that I may pass on buying the yurt, because we may have found a way to build our house after all. In case you're wondering how happy I was about that turns of events, let's just say that the shiny kitchen sink in the model home has a nice set of smooch prints on it courtesy of moi. Some better house news and a hair update were just what I needed to snap out of that disgusting slump. Well, a pedicure would have helped, too, but I digress.

However, it's come to my attention that some aren't aware of the fabulous alterna-dwelling known as a yurt (ahem, Kelley), and so, for educational purposes, I will share a link to help you on your way to yurt enlightenment. I fully support the rights of my friends to become yurt dwellers if they so choose, but I'm not calling any of you Ghengis, so don't ask.

Now, can we please talk about my hair? It's pretty cute, and I'll have you know that I am solely responsible for the current cuteness. I looked in the mirror last week and was horrified to see that my formerly adorable highlight/lowlight combination was no longer acceptable for public view. Strapped for cash, I started to panic, but deep down I knew what I had to do. It was a choice. Struggle valiantly against the pitfalls of home haircolor, or let the roots show. Ladies and gentlemen, I am no Sarah Jessica Parker, so I hit the haircolor aisle determined to find a workable solution.

Later, in my bathroom, my hands were shaking as I mixed up the foul-smelling potions that could be my savior or my ultimate hair shame (though the perm escapade of 98 is hard to beat). I love that on the home highlighting directions, they don't mention anywhere that you should try really hard to grow a few extra arms before applying the dye to your hair. During the process, you will look absolutely nothing like the smiling girl on the instruction sheet. The bottom layers of hair went pretty well, which is nice, in case anyone is watching when I flip my hair over to dry the underside. As I reached the top, things got ugly.

First, yes, it really does hurt like the unholy fires of hell when you get that haircolor crap in your eyes, so please keep that in mind if you think a little extra color on your wispy, sideswept bangs will be totally foxy. Second, once your hands are covered in hairdye (another thing not mentioned in the directions - the little highlight comb DOES NOT do it all for you) it's bloody impossible to hold on to the hair color bottle. My chosen highlight color was a nice light red, but they like to scare you with funky-ass colors in the dye bottle. So after the first few times I dropped the dye bottle, I actually looked a lot like Carrie after the prom/blood scene. My daughter came in the room at one point and asked me if I needed a Band-Aid.

After all of the trauma, though, I have to say that my home highlighting skills are pretty damn good. I was nervous as I unveiled my new, non-roots-showing tresses at lunch with some friends. I had reason to be nervous, too, because these girls can smell home dye-jobs from a mile away. Would they have called me out on it? Oh my heavens, yes. Hello, I regularly encourage them to rag on bad dye jobs. My sigh of relief came when one of the girls pointed to my shimmering locks and said, "See, that's what I want done to my hair." Sweet victory! Now, I know that I shouldn't be too smug about this one good hair incident, because we all know that hair karma can be a truly hideous thing, but just let me bask for a few seconds, OK?

Last, I am compelled to tell you about my new TV. Techie geek, I am not. So again, fear struck my heart when my husband asked me to fetch a new TV. Determined to make a good choice, I walked into Best Buy, batted my eyelashes, shook my fabulously highlighted hair and laid myself upon the mercy of the youngest, techiest-looking sales guy I could find. I wanted the biggest, best TV that I could get for a specific amount of money (you think my husband sent me with his checkbook and no spending limit? HA!). My goal was to choose a TV a tad bit bigger than our old one, so that it would fill up the entertainment center nicely. No problem. However, I forgot to take into account that everything looks smaller in the cavernous Best Buy store.

When I got home, my "just a bit bigger than the old one" TV was kind of a monstrosity. For normal people, this wouldn't be an issue. When you live in a freakishly small house and your new TV takes up 80 percent of the living room, it's a little bit weird. Needless to say, this TV didn't fit the entertainment center, either, unless I wanted to fit it in there with a sledge hammer. My husband just shook his head. Not to be defeated, I suggested we put the TV on top of the entertainment center for now. Nothing makes a giant TV look even bigger than hoisting it up in the air to hover over you like a great and shining cartoon anvil. Not only is our entertainment center creaking under the weight of this behemoth, we have to lean wayyyyy back on the couch in order to see the picture. It's like being in the front row of the movie theater where you get a sore neck from the strain. The good news is, I think we may be able to use the TV box as an addition to the shack. Fabulous!

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