This is the part where you tell me I'm pretty. (Seth hates it. Shhh. He didn't want me to tell you that.)The hairdresser, Mike, made fun of the state my hair was when I got to him.
Mike: Um...what's with the color?
Me: I got mad at a boy in July and dyed it black.
Flamboyant Assistant: Why do girls always take it out on their hair?
Mike: ::Shakes his head:: Who was the boy?
Me: Um...my then ex-boyfriend who is now my current boyfriend? It's a long story.
Mike: ::Rolls his eyes:: And when was the last time you got a hair cut?
Me: Um...well, my old roommate cut a couple of inches off with a pair of kitchen scissors? A couple of months ago? Does that count?
Mike: You are never allowed to touch your hair again.
Which is probably very good advice.
It is the THIRD change I've made this year that is the real shocker for anyone who knows me. For those of you that don't know me? I am lazy. Very lazy. My favorite things in the world are sleep and bacon. Everyone have a clear picture now? Are you sitting down? Comfortable? Excellent...
I joined a gym.
Now, please - nobody panic! I haven't lost my mind...I just...well...I'm turning twenty-five this year and the gym by my house is really REALLY cheap and...I've started to feel a little tubby. (A diet of sleep and bacon will do that to a girl) And I would be pleased if my arms were slightly less jiggly. And the gym - holy shit it is cheap. And a LADY gym, which means I don't have to deal with BOYS and feel self conscious. YAY!
Today was my second day at the gym and I am HURTY. Oh, I should probably mention this: this was my second day at a gym. Ever. Remember the lazy? Told you.
But as much pain as I'm in I'm also feeling good. Kind of, PUMPED. It feels bizarre. I've never really been invested in taking care of myself before.
I think I might actually stick with this...huh.
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