Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Hair-Do Bliss, Sleep Overs, and Kitty Testicles

Boy Howdy, do I love a good bleach job. I'm talking about my hair, people. I don't know why I do this to myself - - I don't know why I let my hair go for so long. Oh wait - - I know - - I rarely get the chance to get out by myself so that I can get it done. I have always been a curling iron, mouse, hairspray, etc., etc. kind of girl - - I like to play with my hair, and I want it to look nice. Vain, maybe...but that is me, that is what I like to do - - it makes me happy. However, since around the time I got pregnant with Griffin, I've been caught up in a serious bad hair nightmare. This is probably one of the main reasons you rarely see pictures of me on this blog (the other being that I am usually the person behind the camera). It finally dawned on me that my trouble really began back in 2006, when I broke up with my hairdresser, Jeff. Although I'd always been madly in love with him, he had an "off" day at one point, and did something a little weird to my hair, so I ditched him and didn't look back. I proceeded to encounter such disasters as the Quickie Cuts Bangs Hatchet Job, The Angled Bob (which I really only liked for about a day), and then a really low point this past fall when I thought coloring my own hair was a good idea. Alas, all is right in the world again, because yesterday I put my tail between my legs and went crawling back to Jeffrey. That man foiled, cut, texturized, and coiffed me, sending me out the door a new woman. A New Woman, I tell you! I could have smooched him on the way out the door, I felt so darn good. Yay for hair chemicals!

In other news, Camden has been sleeping with his Nana and Papa every night since they arrived. Mind you, our guest bed is only a double bed, so I'm not so sure they have actually been getting much sleep. Camden is so very happy to have them here (as are the rest of us), and he asked them multiple times tonight if they would move in with us. He proudly showed both of them around his preschool today - - I wish I'd thought to video tape that because he was just so darn cute.

Roy's day started off on the wrong foot when I loaded him into his kitty carrier and carted him off to the vet to be, *ahem*, neutered. After some blood work, however, he was sent home with his testicles still attached to his body, along with a teensie bottle of antibiotics, and was told to return in a week when his white blood cell count is back to normal. I'm pretty sure when I went to retrieve him from the vet, I heard him breath a rather loud sigh of relief. It's only temporary though - - he'll be back on the chopping block next Thursday. Yeouch!

7 comments:

Cheryl said...

A photo please of the new woman...

Jean said...

Yes, photo please.

Susan said...

No fair, no photo

Jen said...

Yes, a picture please!

Your parents are troopers for letting a toddler sleep with them. We have a queen size bed and the thought of SweetiePie sleeping with us sends shivers down my spine! She's a roller you see, and when she rolls, her hand flies at the speed of light and wacks either my husband or I in the face.

You get the picture!

Lisa said...

Nothing wrong with chemical hair, Heath! A picture would be nice!

I hope your parents are enjoying having only Camden sleep with them. It won't be long before Griffin catches on and wants to join the party! :D

Melissa said...

Ahh Jeffrey...he's a wonderment! I used to have someone like him. I SO miss that man! :D I'd walk out of his salon feeling like a million bucks and then some.

Photo time!

Tell Roy to enjoy his marbles for their last week! Ha! I took our kitty to be spayed last month, after she displayed extremelely loose morals. It was shocking, it was like she was 16, on spring break in Lauderdale.

Joy said...

Yes, post a photo or I'll stalk you in your hometown!!!

Poor Roy. He thinks he's safe but he's not.

Too cute about Camden sleeping with your folks. Paco sleeps with my parents every Friday night! They are even talking about having him sleep with them when we go to Mexico! You won't hear me agruing.

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