Let’s Talk About Hair (Slow News Day)

Here is where I out myself as a true failure of a twenty-something chick: hair maintenance is extremely far down on my list of priorities.  I cut my hair… twice a year.  No joke.  Only once a year do I splurge and get a cut and highlights at an actual salon place, and then about 6 months later when I start to look like Garth Algar I go to Hair Cuttery for a trim.  ($15 GUYS!).

I swear… it’s the same.  I don’t know what others’ thoughts are, but my experience with hair is that its level of attractiveness is more proportional to the amount of time I spend with it in the morning than how much I spent the cut.  If you are too lazy most days to spend more than 93 seconds with the hair dryer (me), no expensive cut is gonna bail out yo slacker self.  Conversely, if I actually bother to bust out an appliance of some kind, I can usually walk out the door feeling OK about my head.  So $15 it is.

I also abhor the process of getting my hair cut.  IT’S SO BORING.  I am simply too hyper to sit in a chair and gaze at myself in the mirror for 45 minutes.  You try to read and they just yell at you to pick your head up.  Or you are subjected to the worst torture of all, 45 minutes of small talk with the cutter.  Holy God.  Last time I had to suffer through that I walked out with this stylist’s life story… childhood.  Sister’s divorce.  Death of first dog.  Current dog that they can’t bring themselves to put down but it’s probably time.  House remodeling.  Neighbors they don’t get along with.  Complaints about the bad benefits from the salon.  None of that was hyperbolic or fabricated for the sake of jest. TRUE STORIES, ALL OF IT.

So… anyway.  I skipped my annual highlights treat at the salon this summer (umm, did I mention the part about walking away from my job/income when we came to PA?) and my hair has deteriorated rapidly from cute blond to rodent blond.  Very un-cute.  I’m quite leery of cheap color for a lot of reasons.  Dye is probably low quality and full of 4,000 carcinogens and illegal in 12 states, much higher stakes if something goes wrong (you can’t blow dry your way out of a color disaster), etc.  But desperate times call for… extreme cheapness.

So I was intrigued when we got a coupon in our new mailbox for $10 off a color treatment (“a $40 value”) at something called Cost Cutters.  $30 for highlights? Hot diggity! Also… $30 for highlights? Meep.

So what is this Cost Cutters?  Is it like a poor man’s Hair Cuttery? (Repeat: MEEP).  I asked Google for some reviews and here is what Shanksbbygurl94 has to offer…

I… umm… guys…. I… just can’t.  This may be slightly irrational, but with my ego already fragile right now, I can’t help but worry that Cost Cutters will lead me down some kind of slippery slope wherein one day I’m a respectable woman, and the next day I’m picking outa picturr and asking for high lights everyware.  Except then I walk out looking likea lion.  (Actually my first pass at that I was like ‘What’s an ikea lion?’)

Sorry you had to read all this about my hair.

What I Learned About NSync Today

They still have a website…

For a stupendous read, I highly recommend from it: *NSync’s Bio.

I don’t want to spoil the fun for you, but you should know that these are direct excerpts from this document:

 It all started with dauntless rehearsals in an Orlando warehouse filled with hope.

In March, it lit the airwaves like fireworks, washing away FM’s dark veneer and offering a proper introduction to the consummate millennium-era hitmaking ensemble.

The members also revealed their writing skills on a number of tracks, including Justin’s contribution to first single, the jive-talking Pop, which said it all: “I’m sick and tired of hearin’ all these people talk about/What’s the deal with this pop life/And when is it gonna fade out?/The thing you’ve got to realize/What we’re doing is not a trend/We got the gift of melody/We’re gonna bring it til the end.”

In an instant, the world’s most popular boy band graduated to the major leagues in terms of artistic achievement.

The uptempo, sing-along Tearin’ Up My Heart came next, reaching the top 15, establishing the group as stalwart chart warriors, while awakening record labels to the dazzling star power coming out of Sweden that was fueling the group’s ascendancy.

It also employs, in great seriousness, the phrase “magical journey”, and frequently uses “the boys” as an alternative to the pronoun “they.”

The end.  Oh and PS, I talk a big game but *NSync at Hershey Stadium circa 2000 (No Strings Attached tour- respect) was my first concert experience and therefore holds a special place in my heart.  JC I LOVE YOU 4EVER WILL YOU SIGN MY BOOBS AND/OR CALL ME ON STAGE FOR A SLOW SONG???? I mean………. The end.

I Freaking Love the Internet

Do not ask, but today I googled “Are Altoids bad for you?”.  A seemingly boring query which, once again, revealed to me new and unprecedented depths of the Splendorous Wonder That Is The Internet.  Because what did I turn up but some sketchy forum full of people legitimately addicted to Altoids. (Source) 

Here is our original poster…

Can I relate? No.  No sir.  No I cannot.  But I appreciate you “putting it out there.”  I like Altoids.  Altoids are my friend.  When I’m feeling a little stale in the pie hole? Altoids.  When I want a sweet fix that isn’t Hershey’s Assorted Miniatures (Family Val-U Size)? Altoids.  But… umm… wow.

Just set… them down… and walk… away? WOW insightful advice, dude.  THANK YOU.  Actually I’m with Altoids Girl Trish on this.  You know the Sex and the City where Miranda eats the brownies out of the trash and then has to pour detergent on them to stop? I wept and felt a little less alone in the world.

Now our girl is going to address this bad breath accusation…

LOL NO you guys she doesn’t have bad breath! Gawd what kind of person do you take her for? Homegirl, by my estimation you just ate 600 Altoids in 48 hours so I’d say you’d be lucky to have bad breath as your problem.  Also, you should probably withhold your judgment being someone seeking help from an internet forum about your debilitating breath mint addiction.

I’m also beginning to suspect this whole thing is a sham and these people are plants from Altoids corporate given the suspicious marketing buzz-phrases ”cold and refreshing feeling” line from the last person and the “cool, refreshing taste” from Trish.  Trish’s analysis also lends itself to a possible new slogan: “Altoids: come for the cool, refreshing taste.  Stay for the crunch”

No, I agree and actually do not believe there is anyone in the world who eats as many wintergreen Altoids than you.  6-12 cans.  Rock that minty shyste.

This is where I gain a great deal of respect for the medical professionals that have to listen to the insane problems of the world with straight faces.

Doctor: Any other questions you had today?
JanieTheresa: Well, yes.  Altoids.  I eat about 1-2 cans per day… and that’s limiting myself.
Doctor: Hmm yes Altoids yes.  Tell me more?
JanieTheresa: For me, I put about 4-5 Altoids in my mouth…
Doctor: Yes I see.
JanieTheresa: Crunch them up into small peices…
Doctor: Mm hmm crunch OK.
JanieTheresa: Swirl those peices around in my mouth…
Doctor: Yes yes.  And after the swirling?
JanieTheresa: and then swallow.
Doctor: CHHRRMPPHHH SNORFLE I mean, that’s very interesting.  Anything else?
JanieTheresa: Mmmmmm!

PSSHH get OUT… Insensitive troll…

Also did anyone else have a really inappropriate double take on “gentlearts”? Please don’t make me say it…

Let’s end on an uplifting note OK?!

FWD: TLC Production Department.

What in the WHATTY What!?

So, we’ve talked before about the world, or lack of, before Wikipedia and Pinterest, but what about the granddaddy of them all… GOOGLE.  omg.  Google is seriously the magical, benevolent, guiding hand of my life.  In addition to being completely dependent on it for the usual info stuff, I find myself looking to it for life assistance and EXPECTING it to be able to answer/solve every single personal problem of mine.  Because Google ALWAYS has an answer.  Remember the magic 8 ball? It’s like that.  Only better.   Cause it’s powered by God.

Case in point: this afternoon, my crisis du jour was a colleague’s candy jar that lately  has been, how shall I say this, causing some serious self control issues for me.  Namely, I keep snarfing down dove chocolates out of it like a psychotic cocoa fiend.  I need to NOT be doing this, obviously.  So I asked Google: how can I stop myself from eating from the office candy jar? And darn it if 5 Ways to Resist Office Snacks wasn’t handed to me on a silver e-platter.  Thank you, oh wise and merciful one!

Now, the best thing to ever happen to already awesome Google was obviously Google live search.  And of course we’ve all seen some extremely questionable stuff pop up there.  Though I HAVE to say this one is probably the olympic gold medalist of all creepiness:

 

………………

………………

………………

OK.  Yea.  I honestly feel traumatized having read that.  You probably do too, so I’m sorry.  First off, umm, presumably those search results are based on, you know, common questions that get typed into Google.  It’s terrifying enough that we share the earth with one person who is curious about these things, let alone enough yahoos to put it at the top of the Google inquiry list there.  Holy moly, dudes.

As for the answers to questions 2 and 4, let me just help you out here:  NO.  No, no, also NO, and HELL TO THE NO.  OMG.  FOUL.  I’m going to have nightmares.

In other news… We are scooting out of town tomorrow afternoon to enjoy a long weekend in PA and NJ for Jeff’s friend’s wedding and some family fun time.  Catch you next week! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to join the number 38 for a candle-lit bubble bath… Bow chicka wow wow!