It’s Like We Kissed

January 3, 2012 at 5:09 pm | Posted in Office Humor | 4 Comments
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Welcome to 2012, dear reader(s)!  Today hasn’t been an easy day for most of us.  I’m sure you all know what I mean: just getting out of bed took a herculean effort, and trying to get back into the swing of things at work?  Well, let’s just say it’s going to take a while.

I had high hopes for 2012, I really did.  This was gonna be my year!  The year when my house became a home, when my job became less “OMG!” and turned into more “FTW,” the year when I finally became a grown-up and stopped making ridiculous mistakes.

It’s January 3 and I’ve already disappointed myself by doing something dumb.  I was in a meeting in Dark Water Fowl’s legal eagle’s office this afternoon and took a sip of water.  From his water glass.  I didn’t realize what I was doing until I finished about half the cup!  And then it hit me, and I didn’t know what to do.

Try as I might, I could barely focus on the “Ts and Cs,” as lawyer-types refer to them, we were discussing.  Instead, I was trying to figure out what to do: admit that I had inadvertently hydrated myself on his water?  Or pretend I didn’t notice and everything was normal and fine and that I hadn’t just co-mingled cooties?  What would a grown-up do?!?!

I left the meeting without acknowledging my faux pas, and I left his half-drunk cup of water on his desk, complete with my Chapstick lip imprint.

When I returned to my desk, I told my colleagues what I had done, and they couldn’t help but tease me.  “It’s like you kissed!” cried one; “That was CLASSIC!” chortled the other.  I was mortified.  But I figured that grown-ups always admit their mistakes, so I had to march back into his office and fess up.

As I shared my little blunder, I noticed he was making a disgusted face.  Great, I thought, he’s totally grossed out!  He probably thinks I have some horrific communicable disease.

But I was wrong.

“You drank that?!” he exclaimed.  “That cup of water has been sitting on my desk since before Christmas!  That’s disgusting!”

Cheers, dear reader(s).

And Happy New Year!

Bad Hair Day!

January 4, 2011 at 11:57 am | Posted in Around Boston | 18 Comments
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You may need to sit down to read this blog. Seriously, I’m about to reveal an earth shattering truth, so prepare yourself… Here goes… I’m not a natural blonde. In fact, I don’t even have light brown hair. I have dark brown hair – and it doesn’t work for me. At all. My Mo says no one is perfect, and I’m afraid being an unnatural-looking brunette is my cross to bear. And while I understand that vampires are all the rage these days, resembling the undead in real life isn’t cool.

So I’ve been “enhancing” my hair color to what it “should” be since I was about 13 years old. And I’ve had one stylist take charge of my color for the past 17 years. Sure, I’ve visited other stylists. I’ve strayed (it can’t really be called cheating, can it?) when absolutely necessary. I mean, she works in Connecticut, so I can’t just pop over whenever my roots need a touch-up.

This past weekend we had a friend’s wedding (holla Debby and Gie!) and the festivities leading up to my brother’s nuptials begin this coming weekend, so I figured a little root touch-up was necessary.

Huge mistake. The new neighborhood stylist I tried was horrible! She turned my hair orangey-yellow-fugly. That’s right – just a few days into the New Year and I’ve already had a hair fiasco.

So I went back to the salon for the second time in as many days for a corrective treatment. Prognosis: tough. Rehab is in order. 

Step 1: dye my hair brown (in other words, rediscover my natural coloring).

Witness (and savor this moment, because it isn’t likely you’ll see me like this again for ages).

Here goes nothin'...

Step 2: highlight the newly brown hair.

Step 3: remind myself that it’s just hair and not the end of the world.

Step 4: wash, dry and evaluate.

Step 5: highlight again. Because it’s still brown.  And this time, it is on the mousy side. Sigh.

I'm still a brunette. Sadly.

Step 6: try not to think about how many hours I’ve spent in the darn hair dresser’s chair on my precious and rare days off.

Step 7: wash and dry.

Step 8: pray.

Step 9: evaluate.

Step 10: go home, because even though the hair isn’t perfect, it is close enough. And I’d literally been at the salon from the moment it opened to the second it closed.  Not to mention that if I make this a 12 step process, I’ll feel a little silly.

So here I sit as a more reddish-version of my blonde self.  The good news is that I’ve got over one month until my bro’s wedding, so I can have another go at the blonde thing (with my CT stylist) before then. 

Oh, and I learned a lesson about vanity, blah blah blah.

~Sarah

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