My hips hurt. Badly. I'm limping. I'm going to call my neurologist every hour until he calls me back. I don't know what his deal is, because he's an awesome doc. Otherwise when we go to Ann Arbor tomorrow I'll go camp out on his doorstep.
Yesterday was, well, intersting. It started WONDERFULLY. Got up, spent come quality cuddle time with Jacob, breakfast, computer stuff, got ready, went to lunch with two awesome friends. Even saw my gorgeous hubby there (at lunch) and said hi. Time went WAAAAY too fast, so I was on the way to my haircut. This would be the clip.
First of all, I will NEVER get all this color done again. It took FOUR HOURS for color and cut. First, she chopped off over 6 inches (it's too short in the back, but what can you do?) Then colored it almost black. So color, process, then wash, condition, rinse. My bangs didn't take. So we re-did them. Color, process, wash, condition, rinse. Now on the the bleaching of the parts I want colored purple. Yes, purple. Bleach, process (under heat this time), wash, condition, rinse. My hair had never been so clean. Then the purple. Color, process, skip straight to condition, rinse. OH...I forgot the blowdrying step in between each color, because the hair had to be dry to color. FINALLY, the flat iron and style. (I'm not saying any of this was the sylists's fault or anything, it just takes that long). OH---and I forgot to mention that I had worn pigtails while fishing all day Monday, and had a stripe of extremely sunburned scalp that felt oh-so-good during this entire process.
K, so the color is FABULOUS. My eyes look totally blue, and the purple is perfect. Out in the sun it's like Wa-BAM! but inside it's way more subtle. Very, very cool. Color is PERFECT. So she styles it kind of flipped up on the ends, which I like. After all this time, effort, energy, I'm exhausted. I get in the car, drive home. Jacob comes running up: "Mommy, you look pretty!" Aw...bless that boy! Then my husband walks up. You know the look. When you've done something that he's disgusted with. He just looked at me and slightly shook his head. He hates it. Says it makes me look shorter and "plumper." Great. I'm not posting pictures until I wash and style it myself. I also added a few layers on the sides, because the layers were too long. (This would be the beginning of the flip-out.)
So Doug and I aren't saying much to each other, he's got chores outside, I'm trying to be calm; the prednisone emotions are running rampant, so I'm trying not to maniacally laugh, cry, scream, rage and break things all at once. Nice, eh?
We finally get to bed, and I need a new part for my suction machine upstairs. I look in the closet where most of my supplies are, and I can't find it. But of course, before I reach the bag that's 3 feet over my head, I drop a wooden book end on my big toe. I'm not sure what came out, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't "Thank you Jesus." So now I'm not just limping, I'm kinda waddling, because my left foot is half broken, and my right hip feels like it's about to go out. And my husband hates my hair.
Woot! Woot! I get in bed, trying not to bawl, and of course can't sleep right away. Finally fell asleep, and slept pretty well until about 7. Yee ha.
So yeah, when I figure out how to style my hair, I'll post a pic. Until then, use your imagination.