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New! Check out my Real World Summaries. Episode I is up now.

I went in and changed all my index pages for each month to include titles for the entry. I'm not sure why. It seemed like a good idea to give people some idea of what each entry was about, so if you thought "Back in May, I remember Kim wrote an entry about her dad. I wonder what day that was?", now you can look at the May index and find the entry called, "My Dad, My Hero." Or something.

So I got my hair highlighted and it's a freakin' disaster. Actually, my overall color is fine. But the front streaks part is a mess. It's WAAAY too light and the sections she lightened are way too big. So I look like a two dollar whore (I assume, I've never met any whores in person, but I know they don't look like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman). I went over to Mary's last night and she gave me her stylist's name, so I called to get an appointment to try and fix it, for next Wednesday. She's going to call if she can fit me in sooner. I realize I could go back to the original place and have them fix it for free but A)I don't want her touching my hair again and B) I'm a big fat wuss. So there you go. Meanwhile, I wore a baseball cap to class last night.

Immediately, I am reminded of the last time I tried something new involving hair dye. I was in college, and it was the night of the Screw Your Roommate dance. For those who don't know, this involves fixing up your roommate with a blind date. I didn't have a date (nor did I particularly want one) so I was home with my suitemate Melissa, and we decided to have a night of beauty. I had just seen the movie Indecent Proposal and I decided I wanted my hair to be the color Demi Moore's was in that movie - a shiny, dark brown. (Normally my hair is kind of medium boring brown). So I bought some semi-permanent dye and went to it.

Apparently, I left it on too long or something. When I rinsed it out, my hair was black. So black it was purplish in spots. I have a medium complexion with freckles, so the black wasn't really in my best interests. I remember walking into the cafeteria the next morning for brunch and Terry said, "What did you do to your hair?" in place of "Hello" or "Good morning". Fortunately, no one has any pictures of me in that state. There is a videotape I've seen with little bits of me in it, but that doesn't count. As far as I'm concerned, the whole episode never happened. Until now, when I'm reminded of it.

Lest you think I am horribly vain - I'm really not. I don't care so much about what I look like. I try to be presentable, but I don't even own a full length mirror. When I broke off half my front tooth, I still went to school that day. A lot of teenage girls would have hid in their room until their dentist appointment, I think. But this is point and laugh kind of bad. Until Wednesday. Sigh. I need to get over myself. I just want to get it fixed before the 26th, when I have a high school alumni day.

Thanks to Patrick for pointing out the name of the song I referred to yesterday is actually "88 Lines About 44 Women". Well, I KNEW it wasn't "16 Lines about Some Number of Women".s

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