Comment on going from phase 1 to done.....

So I've always had the philosophy that hair can be changed at will. Let's be honest, it's cheaper to change your look by changing your hair color than buying a whole new wardrobe.

I've never been one to shy away from haircolor-I've done dark, red, dark, red, more dark, highlights, whatever. The one thing I have stayed away from is going blonde-yes, that's right, blonde.

Why am I scared to be blonde? Well I just think some people don't belong blonde, plus living in Utah, the land of highlights, I liked being different with my dark hair.

Well I guess I got sucked in because I decided one night that I wanted to try blonde hair-I mean why not? What do I have to lose? Nothing I say....nothing.

And so goes the process-this is my before picture:

(one time after I first dyed my hair dark my Grandma Mills exclaimed upon seeing it "Who did that to your hair!?! You look like Oprah!!" I replied, "my friend did it", to which Grandma replied, "Well she's no friend"-and you wonder where I get my 'open mouth insert foot' issue)

Note that my hair is pretty dark. So when I told my hair stylist (is that the proper term?) that I wanted to go blonde she said I'd have to do it in stages. It could take 3-4 stages she said. No big deal I said.

This is Stage 1:

Stage 1 took 6 hours. Yes, that's right-6 hours. And while my hair is indeed lighter, the camera and lighting don't really catch that my hair matched my sister's dog. In the sun we had the same orange tint.

(Oh puppy-she's so cute!)

Today when I went to the salon I was prepared for Stage 2 with books, snacks and drinks. I was the last appointment of the day (at 1pm) and I figured I'd be there for another 6 hours.

Boy was I surprised when it only took 4 hours and Chris (the stylist) was able to get my hair blonde-in only 2 stages! She was as shocked as I was!

This picture doesn't show exactly how light it is-I keep shocking my roommate who doesn't recognize me-and I kind of shock myself now too. I can't wait to see how my adventures as a blonde go-I'm sure I'll have tons of comments about it.......

Comment on this week's shopping trip...

Jon & Kate AND The Real Housewives of New Jersey????

I. Can't. Stop.

Comment on the moose pants

Oh moose pants-how do I love thee-let me count the ways:

• I love that I bought you during the after Christmas sales at Old Navy for $7.99, there was an entire rack of you and your siblings just waiting to be purchased and I took advantage and bought you and never looked back-

• I love that you stayed with me through nursing school, always waiting for me to come home after a long day of clinicals and put you on before I did anything else. Your softness continued to comfort me at my new place of employment as I dealt with the stress of being a NICU nurse, along with the anxiety and depression that plagued me this last winter-

• I love that due to countless washes you were the softest pair of pyjama pants I have ever owned-

• I love that you matched the moose plates that my Grandma gave us for Christmas one year-

• I love that my mom wore her pair of moose pants to Senor Iguana's one night when we went to dinner after going tanning and nobody noticed, yes-that's right, nobody noticed-

• I love that I wore you to Harmon's with my Uggs, embarassing my sister-

• I love that I continued to wear you even after the bottoms of your legs became frayed and worn because I loved you no matter what you looked like-

• I love that although I've purchased several new pairs of pyjama pants since that day at Old Navy I've always come back to you-

The saddest day of my life was the night a few months ago when I got up from the couch and stepped on your pant leg that was exceptionally long for my shorter legs and you tore up the side. I thought that it would be ok, but after that incident every time I've worn you you've continued to tear, leading me to believe that your time in my closet is coming to an end.






And so, dear moose pants, I don't know how I will part from you but I know that I must let you go. Your life has lasted much longer than expected. Know that I will always cherish our days and nights together, and I will never forget the comfort you provided.




Love,

Your faithful wearer

Comment on last night's dream.....

AKA Signs and symptoms that I've been reading too many US magazines:

So in my dream I was flying to Alaska with Jon & Kate plus 8 and all of their crew and nannies
(in my dream they weren't getting divorced which makes sense because that makes me really sad)

We were flying to Alaska in a plane that apparently was huge enough to have five million bathrooms and a movie theatre
(when you have to go to the bathroom and you're sleeping do you dream about bathrooms? I do-TMI?)

After I helped get the 8 Gosselin children settled in the movie theatre for their flight
(because I'm just that helpful)

I sat in the front row of the movie theatre plane with my best friend, Robert Pattinson
(seriously? I don't even like him! I think he's only cute in certain photo spreads, not actually in real life and DEFINITELY not as Edward in Twilight)

Rob and I were laughing about how paparazzi would probably take pictures of us and think we were dating, even though we were just BFF
(so apparently I want to be chased by paparazzi now?)

And the movie they were showing during our flight on the movie theatre plane?

Twilight
(the movie I can't even get through a 2nd time)

That's all I'm going to say

Comment on my latest addiction.....

So I had lunch with a good friend and her adorable little boy today (we missed you Andy!) discussing the happenings in our lives and more importantly, our opinions on The Real Housewives of New Jersey-but I digress....

On the way home I had to stop at the store for a few groceries.

I. Hate. Grocery. Shopping.

I think my dislike of grocery shopping was instilled in me from a young age. I don't know if it was my grandma's panic attacks when I'd go grocery shopping with her or my mom complaining about it every time we go-but somehow it's rubbed off on me (the dislike, not the panic attacks). Today's trip didn't take too long to pick up my few items thank goodness, and as I waited in the line to checkout I noticed a new US Weekly magazine.

Now I don't know if it's been the last 2 weeks of vacationing or the plethora of magazines floating around my place of business-but lately I have become addicted to US Weekly. I told myself I would be done after Jon and Kate Gosselin were no longer headliners, but when I saw Stephanie Pratt on the June 29th issue I just had to pick it up. Hopefully my friends out there won't judge me-

On a side note-

I. Hate. Unpacking.

Therefore this is what my room looks like-anyone want to come and unpack for me?

Comment on my birthday.....

So while last year I greeted my 32nd year of life with a nasty case of the flu followed by a developmental conference for work, I knew that this year could be nothing but a step up.

I was able to get a few days off work which happened to coincide with my birthday-and I got the heck out of dodge and headed to Orlando, FL to hang with my parents. I spent the day of my birth at Daytona Beach which was amazing-it was a perfect beach day-very warm and humid, hardly a cloud in the sky. I took myself back to my younger years and made my mom go out and play in the surf with me-that was my favorite part-we got some great waves.....

My birthday gift from my parents was a mani/pedi (I hate phrase it's so weird). As shown in the pictures I got a french manicure on my hands which looks so good! And those aren't even fake nails! I can't stop looking at them-I'm really sad to go back to work because the avaguard and frequent hand washings will take that nail polish off in the first hour-but at least it's pretty right now.

Although I love the after effects of the mani/pedi-I think it's awkward to get them. It reminds of that episode in Sex and the City called "The Caste System" when the girls are getting pedicures and discussing how they don't think there's a caste system in America, yet their feet are getting worked on by a row of asian women. It just makes me feel kind of weird. And then when they talk to each other in their native language I worry that they're talking about my feet (I mean I'm a runner-I have callouses! I feel like that needs to be printed on my t-shirt every time I go in for a pedicure). I don't like feet therefore if I were doing the pedicures, I'd for sure be making comments-especially if the person attached to the feet couldn't understand a word I was saying.

In a way I wished I spoke Vietnamese so that I could just bust out with something and call them on it. But until I'm blessed with the gift of tongues I'll just awkwardly get my mani/pedi and vainly go on my way enjoying my perfectly coiffed nails and toes.....