The Flower

As some of you may remember from this or other incidents, I love getting stuff done to my hair every now and then. So a couple weeks ago, I had a couple blue streaks put in the front. It looked super hot. For about a week, I was obsessed with it.

It looked kind of like this, only a bit less of the blue area, and my hair is about five times this length. Also I'm not black (except at heart). So, really not that much like this at all. But let's not pick at the details.

This past Friday, my office had a short hiking trip. It was beautiful to be out of the city "in nature." We lunched on the top of a crag (I obnoxiously asked the guide what "crag" meant exactly -- it's a kind of outcropping of rocks), from which we had a great view over farms and out over the Catskills. It was a very nice, sunny, lovely day.

That is, it was lovely until I got home and discovered that my awesome blue hair had turned about seven different shades of LAVENDER in the sun.

Yes, I've turned into a terrifying white librarian with the BEST GLASSES EVER.

I'm going home for Yom Kippur next week, and I look like a gay flower with very tasteless garish petals.