ja_koniga

While SML was picking out the face soap, I mentioned something like, “I think I’ll bleach my hair!” I picked up a box of Feria Bleach Blonding and held one eye on SML waiting for him to say, “Don’t you dare!”

Instead he said, “Yeah! You should do it!”

SML is generally my voice of reason and without him I’d be stuffing my chimney with cheesecake every night at Gourmandies. I’m very serious about that because if it’s not every night, it’s nearly every night that I say, “Let’s get cake!” I’m somewhat moody and irritable when SML declines, and it can take several hours before I remember instructing him to always suggest protein shakes over bypass surgery.

Most of my decisions should be followed with a signed Authorization of Release because I cannot, under any circumstance, place blame on myself. Didn’t SML know that my hair would turn GOLD if I bleached it? Immediately after I had washed the dye from my hair, I had to shield my eyes and squint to see myself in the mirror because the glare from my hair was like watching a nuclear explosion from two feet away.

I’m going to end this post by explaining how generally kind the population is in Salt Lake City. Nobody has really said anything about how shockingly unnatural my hair looks or how helicopters are mistaking me for a landing pad. The only things said resembled, “Call this stylist. I think he can help you.”

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