So the new hair went over well at work today. Everyone noticed. Even some boys! And we all know most straight males will never notice. Even if your damn head is on fire. I had one person tell me that this color is more “me”, which will severely upset my mother because as supportive as she is, she wants me to be blonde. And I like being blonde too. But am loving this new brunette look.
The funniest thing was one of the dudes dyed his hair over the weekend too. He’s about 20 years older, so he dyed it brown to cover the grey. We both laughed and pointed at one another when we both realized that this past weekend was The Weekend To Dye Your Hair Brown. Did anyone else partake?
And then I had some chick look at me and say something about strawberry blonde. And I must have looked at her with the most fucked up face evah because what?!? What part of this looks either red like a strawberry or blonde, like LIGHT? Like as in the opposite of brown? And this is why I will stand by my position that some people are just idiots.
In other news, guess what I did tonight? I dyed my hair blonde! No. I kid. I kid. But! I. Went. Running! (I thought that could use some dramatic pauses.)
Yep. And I kind of enjoyed it. For the first 12 minutes (a WHOLE mile). Until I got so damn winded I had to walk. (Not too shabby for the first actual aerobic activity in three damn months, you lazy whore.) I not only ran, I went to my damn gym for the first time since maybe April. And on top of it, this was my first time at the new gym that I moved to once I didn’t work downtown anymore. (I won’t point out that I moved to this gym in June. It’s now August.)
And let me tell you, this gym blows. It’s tiny. And it’s hot. And I’m pretty sure there are no locker rooms. (There is some stuff upstairs, but it was like 347 steps up to the top, and no one needs a locker room that bad.) In fact, I think there are no lockers at all. Which means, you just store your bag in a cubby like if you were a damn first grader. But at least it wasn’t too crowded and I didn’t have to wait for a machine. (Someone might steal my underwear, but hey! No waiting!) And there were like 3 cute boys running that I could stare at, which is always quite helpful. Because the only other option was damn Katie Couric on TV and I already have the urge to vomit from the running. I don’t need anything else contributing to that.
But the goal is to keep this up. One, because it helps with the weight loss. And the whole fitting-back-into-the-pants Plan. And two, oh, because I signed up to run a 5k on Labor Day. Not that I can’t walk it, but I kind of want to get back to running. If only because it burns more calories. And more calories burned = more beers I’m able to drink.
And then all will be right in the world.