I went in planning on doing light highlights. I’d told my stylist that I wanted to do blue streaks and she had some blue dye and we decided to do that instead. I know if you want a really vibrant color that you need to totally bleach out your hair and wanted to avoid that. She did the blue on my normal hair and colored the rest like I normally do (to hide the gray) and you couldn’t see the blue at all.

Then I was kind of bummed because I wanted some color! I told her that I really didn’t want to strip out my hair today because I’ve heard so many things about how horrible that is for your hair and it took FOREVER to get my hair looking normal after spending a lot of time highlighting it. So she said we could bleach it a little and the blue should grab on but not be too bright. That was okay. I didn’t want it too bright because I was afraid that Sweety was going to shit his pants when he saw it. I wanted subtle blue. This time. Heh.

Instead it came out crayon green. And I’m okay with it. It was really a toss-up between blue or green from the start because I like both colors. When she saw it, she said if I really wanted blue that she’d strip it out today and redo it. I told her no because I really do like the color green.

But does it look like it was caused by being in a swimming pool for too long?

I can’t get a decent photo of this. The first one had no flash on the camera and the second one did.

speak up!

Today was teeth-cleaning day for me. And I made the same mistake I make every single time after getting my teeth cleaned – I bleached them with one of those at-home bleach kits. Sure, it burned when I first put the tray in my mouth but I powered through the required 30 minutes. I was supposed to take it out and do it again for another 30 right after but didn’t have time because I had to get BB to his baseball game.

During the game, I kept feeling how squeaky clean the inside of my mouth was. I noticed that around my gumline was a little sensitive after all it had been through and forgot about it. After the game it was decided that the ballteam and their families would go to a local restaurant for dinner because the restaurant owner said he’d donate 10% of our check back to the baseball team.

At the restaurant they were having a sale on alcoholic drinks (rumrunners). I was not going to get a drink since it was a function with kids but the lady next to me ordered a rumrunner and I took it as a sign. A sign to order a Jack Daniel’s & Diet Coke to calm my frazzled nerves.

I really really despise these sorts of functions. I hate it when people ask who I am and I say “BB’s stepmom” and either they don’t hear the “step” part and say “oh, BB’s MOM!” while I feel like a fraud because I don’t want to correct them or look at me weird because I’m a steppy. I always feel like they’re thinking that I’m a second-class citizen. (Which is pretty fucked up thinking considering how many people are divorced and remarried nowadays.) Tonight’s lady didn’t hear the “step” part and I worried that LB (who was sitting right beside me) would be mad/upset/wtfe because I didn’t correct her. Or maybe he would be upset if I DID correct her. Maybe I overthink shit.

Guess what happens when you drink alcohol after having your teeth cleaned and bleaching the skin off the inside of your mouth? The burning that you felt while bleaching your teeth is miniscule when compared to your tongue feeling like it just split down the middle and fire ants are running out of it while wearing tiny golf shoes.

Sweety saw my grimace when I took the first drink and started to telepathically give me shit over buying a drink. (Seriously, he can twitch his eyebrows and I know exactly what he’s thinking.) So I had to tell him that it wasn’t that I couldn’t handle the drink – it was that it was melting my tender mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t order a drink when I’m nervous. Though I did quit twitching my leg up and down and wringing my hands and gnawing on my cuticles by the time I was halfway through with the drink.

I don’t know if I was relaxed or if my brain was too busy devoting all pain signals to my mouth.

speak up!

Green = Me
White = Not me

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speak up!

The recent trip to Reno and Vegas? The only redeeming things about it were meeting Margaret and Gina.

It was the Man’s birthday and Margaret’s family came to Reno and met me for supper. The boys showed off their fishing gear and were so cute and well-mannered that I couldn’t quit watching them.

Maybe I have a touch of baby fever.

And the next night I met Gina. We had some awesome food at a little casino and then went to watch Sweety bowl. Gina was tired.

I was tired too but I know if I fall asleep in a public place that Sweety will mess with me so I stayed awake. I’ve come to realize that bowling isn’t the most interesting thing to watch if you aren’t playing.

The majority of the trip was spent toting around a guy that came by himself and had to zoom in on every thing that we wanted to do. He smelled like he’d never seen the business end of a bar of soap and made me want to stab my eyes out. I blame him for my tequila drinking at 10 a.m. It was the only way I could cope because I’d been forbidden from telling him to take a fucking bath.

I told Sweety that we will NEVER EVER AGAIN go somewhere with a group of people to split the cost of a rental car. Next time, we will rent a tiny car that only has 2 seats.

It wasn’t really a vacation. It was like I lost a week of my life. Then when we got home? I got to work for six days in a row to make up for some of the days I’d been off. So I really lost 2 weeks of life. I’m just starting to feel normal (normal. Ha!) now.

Oh, people! I let BB drive me for the first time the other day! I thought I was having a heart attack but I lived. He’d never driven my car either (it’s the same kind as Sweety’s, just a different year) so it was exciting. I’d thought that maybe he would drive some when we go to Oklahoma in a couple of weeks but I now know that there is no way that I could sit in the passenger seat while he zooms down the interstate at 70 mph. 35 mph almost did me in. He’s a good driver but I had a huge issue with putting my life in his hands. I can’t get him to pick up his dirty clothes consistently but he’s driving? I remember when he was little and looked like a puppy! Where has the time gone?

speak up!

P.S. You know your photographer loves you when she’ll say, “Don’t hate me for saying this – suck it in for a second.”

speak up!

What I spoke of in the last post, about having to move the day I go on vacation to suit the coaew? Still hasn’t been decided. When I tell Sweety that I’m going on the day that I originally planned on he gets all grouchy and tells me I need to let go of the hate. Whatever. Someone has to hold the hate. May as well be me.

Last Wednesday we went to Reno and then on to Las Vegas on Friday. Sweety is in a bowling tournament in Reno but we flew into Vegas because the flights were cheaper and we had to rent a car anyway. And we got our rooms in Vegas super cheap ($1 for one night and $15 for the other! We stayed at the Sahara. Some of the reviews were bad but I thought it was just fine for a buck. There were no bugs, mold or crunchy stuff in my bed.).

Thursday morning we got up and played some dollar Blackjack. I played for almost an hour and lost $8. And 4 of that tipped the dealer and waitress. An okay way to spend an hour. :)

Then we went to the little bar there that had $1 shots and hot dogs. Suwheet bebby hayzeus. I got tore up from the floor up. The shots were in these tiny little glasses and I laughed when I saw them. But then it tasted like paint thinner and bleached my teeth while getting me drunk.

I also had an epiphany while drinking – you know how Tiny Dog likes to drink beer but we don’t let her have it since it might kill her and all? O’Doul’s. I’m gonna give that bitch some unalcoholic beer the next time we’re drinking and see if she drinks it. If she does NOT drink it then that means she really is drinking for the alcohol and is smarter than I give her credit for. And if she does drink it then I’ve found a new way to keep The Queen happy.

After filling up on dollar shots and hotdogs we moseyed over to the Nascar Cafe. Where they have a 6 pound burrito. A friend and I thought it would be a good idea to give it a go. I truly believed I could eat a 6 pound burrito. I was sadly mistaken as was he. They make you eat at a special table at the front of the restaurant. People were stopping to take photos and talk to us. I don’t even like people to look at me while eating so it was hard to stuff my face while people took photos.

After the 90 minutes was up and we hadn’t finished, they gave us pink t-shirts that said “Weenie” on the front and took our photo for the wall of shame. Then I power puked and passed out. A passerby saw my plate of burrito butts (I cut off then ends to eat them last & had put them on a separate plate) and asked if she could have them. I’m glad that someone was able to truly enjoy the burrito.

I guess if you’re gonna eat something the size of a baby, it shouldn’t be a spur of the moment decision. You need to train for that shit.

speak up!