Back to school post-wisdom teeth removal/recovery weekend, I was about to be sad about missing the first snow, but judging by the current greenness of the green, I didn’t miss much anyway. Holly got a haircut at Ochoa this afternoon and I almost didn’t recognize her. It’s still long but it’s all style-y. There’s a small part of me that thinks I could pull off style-y hair if I put in any effort at all. Ochoa even has a “scale of hair color,” one being black, ten being platinum. The shampoo guy told Holly that she is a seven, which means that she is way blonder than she would have ever admitted without salon-documented proof. I am making an appointment tomorrow in the hopes that a professional will be able to confirm, once and for all, that I am a strawberry blonde.
I’m writing my children’s literature paper on Harry Potter and his self-image and how his role models and peers influence his own perception of himself (Ms. Wassall would loathe that sentence for it’s redundency and excessive use of reflexive pronouns.) I’m so into the topic though, I wish I had a month to write it instead of about four days. A. Pearce gave me an extension due to extenuating dental circumstances, but I promised myself I would finish it with enough time to shenanigan when Lindsay comes this weekend and most most most definitely before Thanksgiving break.
Holly says, “Put that away, we’re doing facemasks now,” so I guess I have to go exfoliate.
Quote of the day: “And when the darkness comes, I’ll lie and wait, still playing lost and found. All at once, I break my silence, all at once.” – Pete Yorn
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