Saturday, July 24, 2004

Yesterday, my mom passed the Virginia Cosmetology exam, making her a certified cosmetologist.  So today she went out and bought a bunch of hair chemicals and of course wanted to practice on me.  My mom's been trying to sell me on this for a few months now and today was no different.  Except this time, while she was asking me, she already had the chemicals out and ready to go.  It was like a kid asking for a cookie, while the cookie was already in his hand. 

Anyway, I finally gave in and let her highlight my hair.  I was a bit scared when she started laughing as she was taking off the foil, but I have to admit that it came out OK.  I look more like an Asian now with the almost orange highlights.  The only thing is now I have to get a suped up Civic and shop at Banana Republic to complete the look.

I did have reason to be skeptical, though.  Not only has she cut a bald spot in my head, this is the woman that tries to convince me that Union Bay is still in style and says that girls dig hairy legs.  I love you mom and all. . .

On an unrelated note, I was watching Fuse and they had dedications scrolling on the screen while they played music videos.  This got me to thinking, what is the likelihood that the person being dedicated to is even watching?  This goes for the radio as well.  I mean, I know I don't spend my evenings listening to the radio.  Maybe thing have changed in the past few years, but with the vast amounts of radio stations on the air, what is the chance that the person being dedicated to is listening to that particular station at that exact time? 

What I really don't get is when girls dedicate songs to guys on Delilah.  There are only two kinds of guys that listen to that show.  The guy that is with a girl and is listening to it against his will (I've been there too often) or a guy that is way too effeminate.  Either way, you (the lady) is screwed.

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