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Back in blonde

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Well, not that I was that far away from it, in the first place. Really, highlights are an expensive pain in the ass, my the Vietnamese lady who does my hair is always like, “You look like model!” when she finishes, and it makes me happy. So, shut up. It’s better to be blonde now that I don’t live in LA anymore, because slightly less than all of the women here have my same haircolor. You know, because I like to be different from at least some of the other girls. There will be a picture at some point, when I am more interested in arm’s-length photography, or I can coerce GP into taking a picture of my new, pretty hair…

Oh, and random: the salon has a tv with DirecTV service, and for whatever reason, it is always tuned to WGN. Um, hello, this is San Jose, folks. Our channels start with a “K,” mmkay? The strangest part of this whole foreign-television thing is that the news was on while I was in there, and there was all this coverage of UFO sightings in Gary, and tons of pope coverage, whereas here the UFO sightings happen in Bonny Doon, and people are more into protesting China than hangin’ with the pope. The weather came on, too, and I just imagined those slightly-less-than-proficient English learners being totally confused. Rain? Temperatures lower than 75? These weather guys are totally off!

Ok, the peroxide is bubbling into my brain. Time to watch my stories. (It is Thursday, you know.) I leave you with this, which is an exaggerated version of the place I get my hair cut (it is an all-purpose beauty destination!).

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About Megan

I read, I write, I drink wine while watching way too much tv. Let's be friends.

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