July 11th, 2004

children of dune - leto 1

blah blah night out


So went back to refresh my hair color and get more highlights. I now, apparently, have a regular hairperson. I've never had a regular hairperson. But now I do. I have a card with my name, address, three contact numbers, my hair color, what she does, and what color I use, along with the standard price. I have an index card.

Seriously, strange though this may sound, this is the most adult I've felt in my life. It's a strange, surreal feeling. They greet me by name, they sit me down, we discuss things in our lives, I have mysterious hair things done, and yet again, my hair is a vivid shade of red. It grew a surprising amount, and reds fade easily, which argues I really need to get some color-specific shampoo, and omg, am I taking my hair seriously?


For the curious, it's a true red, not auburn, and the highlights are only on top in blonde. Per advice from my hairperson, who said it all through would look odd and not show as well. So far, everyone I've talked to seems to like it. I keep staring in the mirror, playing with the blonde bits.

My hairperson.

Seriously, this is weird.

Yes, my real life is a place of so many extreme boredoms it's unreal. But seriously. I have a hairperson.

Do they like to be called someone else? *worried*

Out for the Night

Nothing is as boring as listening to other people talking about their nights out, and everyone does it, and far be it from me not to continue the tradition. I mean, nothing extraordinary happened.

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In other news, *loves to svmadelyn. She sent me cookies! I WAS SENT COOKIES! OMG THEY ARE GOOD COOKIES! She sent me cookies and a CD of *very eclectic music*, which I am putting in the CD player *right now* and Bedazzled and chewy fruit snacks and a bag of travel sized hair products. *happy place* Pretty red nailpolish, too.


Me and my happy cookies are going to bond now.
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