Tuesday, March 2, 2010

My Little Friend Died

Friday is my big day out traditionally.  It's the day that I get all of my shopping an errands done.  Sometimes, I even shower first. :0)  This past Friday happened to be one of my bi-monthly shower days.   I also washed my hair.  That meant I needed to blow-dry it.

Say hallo to my little friend.

I have a system for blow-drying my hair.  My little friend helps me.  First, I blow out my bangs and knock a little of the wetness out of the sides.  Then I pull it up in a clip while I dry the underneath.  After that's dry - I take a little bit more out of the clip, drying it in sections until I reach the top and it's done.

Imagine my horror when I saw sparky flames and smoke shoot out the backside of my blow dryer as it died on me after I had managed to only dry my bangs and the underneath of my hair Friday.  Not good, people.  Not good.  I tried to flip the little red button on the end of the plug, hoping against all hope that it would flip back on.  Nope.  Nada. Nothin'.  Crap.

I don't know what on earth would have caused this, unless it had a little something to do with this:

Yes, you would be right.  That IS crusted dirt, and I don't know what else caked in there.  Does anyone know how to clean the crud out of there without getting electrocuted and taking a first class ticket to the Pearly Gates?  Anyone?  I would like to be able to spare the life of my new little friend this slow and agonizing death in the future.  Anyway, back to my hair tragedy...

You see, I was going to The Land of Stick People.  Rich, stick people.  Rich, stick people who dress to the nines just to go to the grocery store.  I am neither, rich nor stick people, nor do I dress to the nines just to go to the grocery store.  However, I DO like to blow-dry my hair, throw on a little make-up (God help us all if I don't.) and generally make myself presentable.  But, so help me, I am NOT going to wear a pair of stilettos just to buy some grub.  Beth Chapman, if you're reading this - I love you, Girl!  Give Dog a hug for me!

I had no way of drying the rest of my hair.  I was quite a lovely sight to behold.  So, I figured if I couldn't dry my hair - then I'd just make a real statement and make it look intentional.

I think the blue brings out my eyes.  Don't you?

Here's to making a statement!



  1. Boo on you, Vidal! We need a hair dryer, not a flame thrower!

    And yes, the blue does bring out your eyes. Work it, girlfriend!

    But then, FrumpMama that I am, I'm like one step above PeopleOfWalmart.Com.

  2. I love the Blue and your stories.


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