Inner Ramblings II

The tips of my hair are purple in the front.1

I just spent twenty minutes in the bathroom after my steamy, much-needed shower, applying wash-out color to the ends of my hair.  Actually, I wouldn’t even care if it didn’t wash out because the ends of my hair are damaged anyway.  The front part of my hair, the shorter part that stays forward if I randomly gather my hair in a low ponytail, is dark purple.  Dark purple shows up perfectly on my dark red hair, but on the blond highlight (from the sun, of course) framing my face, it stands out like a weed in the Broadmoor neighborhood.  When I hold a section of my hair in my fingertips, I can see the little porous, damaged parts of the blond that didn’t take the purple color.  It makes me want to coat my hair in another layer of dye.2

The back tips are done in a color of pink, bought at Wal-Mart, that doesn’t show up very well on my hair, but after a couple layers definitely makes things look . . . pinker.  I hate pink; I don’t even know why I bought this hair color.  All I remember is that my mom paid for it.  And since I’m a teenager, I guess that’s all that matters.3

I have hair dye still sticking a little bit to the part of the very corner of my cuticle that I guess I didn’t scrub well enough with soap.  It clashes with the demure skin-tone fleshy pink that my nails sport today.  I want to get rid of the newly developed scar on my hand.  4

I have a scar on the side of my finger, too.  A paper cut from when I was at the History Day competition and I was nervous and I couldn’t quit going over my notes for my interview or else I thought I was gonna screw up and the notes were sharp.  My interview wasn’t stellar.  I didn’t win any awards.  The ends of my hair are stiff because I haven’t brushed it since the dye dried.  5

The computer wants to replace “gonna” with “gonad.”  I don’t know why I find this so funny.6

My sunless tan is coming along quite nicely.  Everyone at school is going to think at first glance that I went somewhere sunny and exciting for spring break.  The most exciting place I’m going is the mall.  Fluorescent lights suck.7

I don’t answer the phone when anyone calls, not that anyone has called for the past couple days (except for a couple of my random wannabe boyfriends) because most everyone is somewhere supposedly sunny and exciting for spring break.  I wonder what I’m going to do for spring break in high school.  8

My mom is yelling at me to get off the computer and change the paper towel rolls NOW or else I will not touch a keyboard for the rest of my happy days.  I ask her what her definition of happiness is and her blood pressure shoots up beyond dangerous. 9

Chores await.10