Well, my dear hair is now absolutely JACKED. It is long, crisp as a broom, yellow as a broom, hard as a broom...gee...alot of broom and straw references come to mind. As you may recall, I had to bleach the hell out of it to remove the gorgeous and extremely life-affirming neon blue that it was, to get a job, which I did not get. So now I am poor and heinous when before I was poor and well...I don't want to sound vain, so I will say happy. but what I wanna say is fantastically blissfully unique. I would sit in the parking lot in the minivan sometimes when Steve would run in to a store and I would think stuff like, "there isn't likely anyone in that whole Target with blue hair." Then I would wonder if there was anyone in my whole city with blue hair. Is that crazy?? I would wonder how many people in all of Michigan had blue hair, I really got into it. I LOVED IT.
So before I divulge my future dreams, here I am, with damaged yellow hair. It is so fried that special deep conditioners won't touch it, they make no diff. I have to put it up into a bun, can't even fake it with ponytails or braids, because there is just this brillo-poof that crinkles and crunches in the breeze and I feel like BadBarbie, like maybe some wierd fake Kmart brand Barbie that you got when you were little from a raffle-Christmas party at your mom's work or something. In a grab-bag marked "Girl", or found in the church nursery. Even real Barbie's hair was shiny and whitish, despite the political implications of her foot size or breast-to-waist ratio, she did have that nice hair...
I still need to try to get a job, and I still need to know that the reason they are not calling me back is because the economy blows or they wanted someone who could work days, not because of my appearance. So I am thinking about dying it brown. Not a chocolate DYEJOB brown, but like a medium, casual, this-could-be-my-real-haircolor kind of a brown. I will also need to cut it a bit. 2 inches most likely. When you run your hands down my hair, it goes soft, soft, soft, soft, burnt to a crisp! So all of that bad part will need to go, losing me months of growing but gaining me a nicer look, I can only hope.
I still adore the rockabilly bangs, but they look sick and terrifying on light hair, like some ghastly 5 year old, and so I have been scooting them over to the side and feeling very very very boring and invisible and lame. I am hoping the brown dyejob will get me back to rockin the bangs, because, with 98% of chicks I see with the same side-swept and overly layered gently frosted hair do's (and of course, the omnipresent empire-waisted maternity shirts grrrrrrrrrrr), I enjoy being as far from that sheep-clone world as possible,
It is aging and just sick to me how everyone looks the same same same lately! On TV, in the town, BLABLABLABLA I could sell these women a little KIT, and they could just POOF have it all in one box.
Here is the Baa-Baa Beauty kit:
Shagg shagg shagg chunks missing like Billy cut off your ponytail in class.
Maternity shirt to give you an imaginary giant belly even if you weigh 100 pounds.
Flipflops so you can look like you shop at the store that is at the campground and you can walk wierd.
Huge huge transvestite sunglasses so you can look like your English teacher did when she went on boat rides with her swinger friends in 1982.***
***these can occasionally "work" when they are paired with an actual cool outfit that your English teacher would never, ever wear on any boat--But no brown tint unless you are SO ironic-hip that you are pretty much Beck or Bjork. Maybe. No, I take it all back. They do not work.
Low-Rise jeans no matter what
When you do not have the bod for this product, why anyone would want to do this to themselves or to the public is just beyond me. How do you sit? How do you breathe? Why o why must we deal with this? You can still have nice boot cut jeans without this scene being involved. Trust me. I'm a thousand times bigger than this girl, and she doesnt even have any stretch marks, and NOBODY is subjected to this when they are around me.
Bright orange tan. I am including faux-tans and tanning booths here. What gives? When you go and spend a day out of doors, you might get an adorable splash of pink across your nose and cheeks, some color on the sunny places, but not and entire corporal dip in carrot-oil whatsoever. I hate this whole-body-orange thing, it is wierd and gross. I have even used the self tanners on my legs because they were literally 9 shades paler than my arms and face (with horrific results) but to think that places like the undersides of my arms, behind the ears, and the entire foot should mysteriously be, well, orange, is apparantly the new thing.
French manicure. It is not french and just looks so 80's and so porno and trashy and Klassie and, well, no. It makes me think of some horrific wedding where lace parasols might come into play and well, no.
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So, now that I have insulted 95% of the suburban babe dreams, let me leave you with some cool fancy makeup girls who I think should replace Kelly Ripa and Carrie Underwood as icons of unattainable gorgeousness. Then I want to take a big break from all this shallow stuff so you all don't think I am this evil superficial terrible girl.
I really like people with clean faces and rosy cheeks and real smiles and bubble gum and chapstick.
Best accessories of all time: High IQ and a guitar.
