So you know what they say about blondes having more fun, but did you know that being a redhead actually decreases your chances of being taken seriously, particularly by the opposite sex?
My hair is naturally an understated auburn color, but when I was in high school we moved into a house with a well, and the iron in the water grabbed hold of the red in my hair and brought it out. I liked it so much, I began coloring it once I moved out of the house so I could keep it. Over the years my hair has been some shade of red, from my natural auburn to newly-minted penny, with an occasional venture into extreme ends of the spectrum from platinum blonde to near-black. Mostly it stays a sort of medium coppery shade, which works well with my skin tone and looks natural enough that the roots don't scream "I NEED A TOUCH UP" every six weeks.
Right now I'm sporting a much darker look - a deep mahogany which is a LOT darker than I'd planned on. But the friend who colors my hair assured me it was what I wanted. I got a lot more compliments on this shade than any other I've ever tried, so while I was unsure of how I felt about it, I gathered by the number of people who said, "it really brings out your eyes and your skin," that perhaps I had found something that worked.
But I wonder. Does having been a redhead for most of my life hold a direct correlation to the fact that I'm 40 and still single and have a rotten dating track record? Is my weight solely to blame, or has my red hair been the culprit in attracting the players, the weirdos, and the jerks? Like the author of this article, I think I'll take a look at the women I know in stable, healthy relationships and see if there's something to it. Right off the bat when I think of the three people closest to me who have stability and happiness in their marriages, there it is - they're all brunettes. Coincidence?
You tell me. In the meantime, I'm going to email my hairdresser and see if she has time to help me wash the last relationship failure out of my current dye job.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
I'm not heartless. I just don't care.
So Casey Anthony was acquitted of the murder charges in the death of her daughter Caylee. (Do you really need a link)? Immediately Facebook lit up with protests and passionate opinions, mostly from those who had admitted to being glued to the trial while it unfolded. Then the canned "copy and paste if you agree!" statuses started, with posters urging others not to line Casey's coffers with purchases of her inevitably forthcoming book and/or movie.
Sad that a little girl died? Sure. Sadder that people's lives became wrapped up in the "social media trial of the century?" I think so. Did we not learn our lesson from O.J?
There are things that matter and affect the greater human population more than whether or not a 20-something Florida party girl killed her child. Yes, it's a tragic event, and I'm not trying to be heartless about the situation. I just don't care. It doesn't affect my life directly, nor does it affect those around me, my friends, or my family. Can you imagine if every time someone was accused of murder the media got involved on this level? I mean, let's get real here.
Am I curious about what really happened? Sure, with the same morbid curiosity that has me picking up the newspaper and reading about most missing person and/or homicide cases. But as far as allowing it to consume my life to the point where I'm glued to my television, computer, radio, or cell phone awaiting up-to-the-minute developments...no. I have other things to do and other causes to worry about - like local issues, which affect me much more profoundly than a murder case in Florida. And as for it allowing it to ruin my day or my week by getting upset about it...
Who has time?
So don't worry. I won't buy Casey Anthony's book. I won't watch whatever cheesy made-for-tv movie comes out of it. But I also will not post "a rose for Caylee" or a chain status about the gross injustice of the case. I have smaller fish to fry, and sometimes those are more important. Those are the ones in my pond, and until we all spend a little more time cleaning up our own backyards, what happened 3 years ago in a Florida subdivision has little bearing on the big picture.
Sad that a little girl died? Sure. Sadder that people's lives became wrapped up in the "social media trial of the century?" I think so. Did we not learn our lesson from O.J?
There are things that matter and affect the greater human population more than whether or not a 20-something Florida party girl killed her child. Yes, it's a tragic event, and I'm not trying to be heartless about the situation. I just don't care. It doesn't affect my life directly, nor does it affect those around me, my friends, or my family. Can you imagine if every time someone was accused of murder the media got involved on this level? I mean, let's get real here.
Am I curious about what really happened? Sure, with the same morbid curiosity that has me picking up the newspaper and reading about most missing person and/or homicide cases. But as far as allowing it to consume my life to the point where I'm glued to my television, computer, radio, or cell phone awaiting up-to-the-minute developments...no. I have other things to do and other causes to worry about - like local issues, which affect me much more profoundly than a murder case in Florida. And as for it allowing it to ruin my day or my week by getting upset about it...
Who has time?
So don't worry. I won't buy Casey Anthony's book. I won't watch whatever cheesy made-for-tv movie comes out of it. But I also will not post "a rose for Caylee" or a chain status about the gross injustice of the case. I have smaller fish to fry, and sometimes those are more important. Those are the ones in my pond, and until we all spend a little more time cleaning up our own backyards, what happened 3 years ago in a Florida subdivision has little bearing on the big picture.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
If you think I'm full of hot air...
Boy, am I out of the loop.
Two nights ago I wanted to watch a movie, but my DVD player had mysteriously stopped working. I'd been doing some remodeling, and while I remembered to cover the TV and the stereo, I'd neglected to cover the DVD player, so I thought perhaps it just needed a little dusting. Before shelling out $50 or more for a new player, I figured I'd invest in a $5 can of compressed air first and see if that worked. There's a Target right up the street, so I hopped in the car and headed up there. I ran back to the electronics section, picked up the air, and made my way up to the checkouts.
When I got to the register, the cashier asked, "may I see your ID, ma'am?" Without skipping a beat I burst out into loud belly laughter.
"You can't be serious," I said. I started to launch into my "stupid laws but no healthcare" diatribe, but there was a line behind me, so I stifled myself and handed over my license (which he proceeded to SCAN...??).
Now, when I lived in Chicago, you had to show your ID for spray paint. I assumed it was because graffiti in Chicago is a huge problem (despite the fact that much of it is quite beautiful), and since I've been back in Buffalo I've been buying spray paint without incident.
But...canned air? Really? The next morning I was laughing about it at work, and a younger coworker said, "Oh, Endust? Yeah, kids get high with that."
So I did some more digging. I'll be damned. People really do huff. I thought that shit went out a long time ago. Apparently not. But when I googled it, I was hoping to find some recent articles on the subject. Most recent one I found was from April of this year about a guy who was arrested 48 times for huffing spray paint (which actually really squicks me out, to be honest). Nothing about huffing computer duster since 2009, though.
So tell me again...who are they protecting?
Two nights ago I wanted to watch a movie, but my DVD player had mysteriously stopped working. I'd been doing some remodeling, and while I remembered to cover the TV and the stereo, I'd neglected to cover the DVD player, so I thought perhaps it just needed a little dusting. Before shelling out $50 or more for a new player, I figured I'd invest in a $5 can of compressed air first and see if that worked. There's a Target right up the street, so I hopped in the car and headed up there. I ran back to the electronics section, picked up the air, and made my way up to the checkouts.
When I got to the register, the cashier asked, "may I see your ID, ma'am?" Without skipping a beat I burst out into loud belly laughter.
"You can't be serious," I said. I started to launch into my "stupid laws but no healthcare" diatribe, but there was a line behind me, so I stifled myself and handed over my license (which he proceeded to SCAN...??).
Now, when I lived in Chicago, you had to show your ID for spray paint. I assumed it was because graffiti in Chicago is a huge problem (despite the fact that much of it is quite beautiful), and since I've been back in Buffalo I've been buying spray paint without incident.
But...canned air? Really? The next morning I was laughing about it at work, and a younger coworker said, "Oh, Endust? Yeah, kids get high with that."
So I did some more digging. I'll be damned. People really do huff. I thought that shit went out a long time ago. Apparently not. But when I googled it, I was hoping to find some recent articles on the subject. Most recent one I found was from April of this year about a guy who was arrested 48 times for huffing spray paint (which actually really squicks me out, to be honest). Nothing about huffing computer duster since 2009, though.
So tell me again...who are they protecting?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)