I love it when people go blonde inappropriately, don’t you? It’s got to be one of my most favorite things ever. Especially with summer coming up and all.

Back in the old days, after the drug money, but before the hard-scrabble poverty that occurs when certain persons won’t get off the damn couch, and after I saved a sinking battleship full of kittens, but before I had my vestigial tail removed…wait, what?

Anyway, what I am trying to say is that at one point in my life, when I had only a little money, I used to run off to the drugstore monthly and buy something to fuck my hair up with. PMS does not discriminate. It does not care if you have one million dollars, or five dollars and nineteen cents. So back in the day I used to give myself bad art-school dropout haircuts and change my hair color at home. Now I have someone to do it for me, and very well.

What to do? Whose hair can I play with now?

Companion cheerfully bears the brunt of my PMS-induced hair urges. WIN!

We were going for white and didn’t quite make it. We’ll get there eventually. His hair is pretty freaking dark naturally. I told him if he didn’t cotton to it we could put navy blue over it, which we happen to have in the cabinet right now. It looks brassy in the last photo, but it’s been tonered so it’s kind of that wheaty blonde.

I scrumpled it up this morning with some of my chunky monkey gel from when my hair was shorter, and he said, “I should have done this years ago!” I like his attitude.

Today I am painting the downstairs bathroom. I love any activity that involves fumes. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I run out of rooms.

The bathroom is difficult, because the shower tiles are white, teal, and grey. I am bored by white rooms, so I am painting the trim to match the teal tiles and I am painting the walls a cool white that has just a smidge of blue in it, like skim milk. Being in the room with the sun shining in is starting to feel like walking through the trees on a sunny day and I like that.

Franny has her tea party on Saturday. I can’t wait to get pictures of that. An extraordinarily polite girl Franny goes to school with (this girl, at seven, RSVP’ed to me on the phone herself) walked by me during drop off yesterday morning and spoke to me.

“I am very excited about the tea party on Saturday!” she said.

“Good,” I said. “We are excited that you are coming.”

“I’ve never been to a tea party before!” she said, and skipped in.

I will post the pictures I can–of my kids on the food.

This weather is making me intoxicated, I swear. It is so nice out here. And yet I am really happy staying in during naptime and painting. You are always a recovering goth.

Update!

Hur hur hur hur, Jope.