Brunette Ambition

Had a KILLER night last night. F-it, why must I always hook up just before I ship out? I'm not imagining this now - this is the FIFTH time I've started dating someone within weeks of relocating... internationally. Say it with me now people: self sabotage is not self sufficiency.

Anywho met an architectural school full of fabulous funsters, took my booty on a distinguished tour of duty around the dance floor, toasted everything down to the light fittings and awoke this morning (or afternoon actually) with mucho, mucho more respect for the big 'Hus. Houston, there may be signs of life on this peninsular after all. Over... damn it!

In other shocking news, after 25 shimmery, sun bleached years - I got my hair dyed dark brown yesterday. What the F was I thinking?! Actually I know exactly what I was thinking - I'd rather die than become predictable. My hairdresser innocently enough asked if I'd like blonde highlights again when I plonked myself down in the chair, and that little switch in my head just FLICKED. Again?! No thank you very much. I really am a stubborn twat about these things sometimes... ok, most of the time.

I know it's a very superficial change, but it's really taking some getting used to. A little less than minty-fresh, I stumbled from bed this morning and into the bathroom for a pint of water (hangover emergency procedure 1#: liquid injection... stat) and gave the mirror a cursory glance through half opened panda eyes AND ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK! Took me a good 30 seconds to:
a) recognise that it was indeed me blearily peering back, &
b) remember the events of the last 24 hours (hehehe, good times, good times)
I'll tell you f-ing what though - I was awake after that.

On the upside I think I've officially disproved that nasty little rumor about blondes having more fun...