A Cautionary Tale

Things have been a bit bleak in my world, so I thought we could all use a good laugh. At my expense. ‘Cause that’s the best kind.

So I’ve been a bit bored with life lately. Moving to Austin wasn’t the life-changing adventure it was supposed to be. I’ve been attempting to alleviate the boredom in various ways along a constructive-destructive continuum.* On the constructive side, I’m working on a novel and making craft projects. On the destructive end, I’m binge eating junk food and testing my credit limit. And then there was last night. Last night I did the worst thing you can possibly do when bored: I tried to color my hair with a highlighting kit.

These kits apparently work for some people. They are able to get stylish chunks or subtle wispy highlights. These are the same people who can shape perfectly symmetrical eyebrows and paint their nails without a single smudge or bubble. I am not one of those people. I loathe those people. Because my eyebrows always wind up lopsided and my nails always look like they were painted by a blind five-year-old with palsy. So in my hands, a highlighting kit is a disaster waiting to happen. And you would think that after nearly 30 years, I would know this.

You would be wrong. Somehow, I convinced myself that this time, I would get it right. I would have pretty strands of blond framing my face and wispy highlights all around. The box made it look idiot-proof. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Lisa-proof. Because instead of chunks or wisps, I have spots. I look like a hyena. Or Paris Latsis.

And the truly sad part: This probably won't be the last time I do this sort of thing.

Thank goodness for bandanas. And Tom Cruise. Because he's still crazier than me.


* It was only a matter of time before I began writing like the academic journals that I edit.