I think that a parent's biggest fear when they send their kid off to another country is, "Crap, they're probably gonna come back with dyed hair and everyone's going to think we're terrible parents." But let me just say that I am not being rebellious, but rather adventurous.
I did make sure to get permission from those whom might be concerned with me potentially burning off my hair due to the powerful chemicals that my dark brown hair requires. These people included my parents (I made sure to mention that they lived through the 80s and were once adventurous too) and Joern's parents. The only requests that I received were to get it done professionally and to not mess up the bathroom if I chose not to. And I chose not to mess up the bathroom; however, I would recommend one to conduct more research than what I had before going straight to the internet and ordering the bleach, developer and toner that one thinks are the "oh so easy" steps to getting blonde hair.
I may not have done enough research to come out of the bathroom looking platinum, but I still had a full head of hair that wasn't orange, which is saying something. Anyhow, after waiting a week for my straw-yellow hair to recover from the harshness of the bleach, I had ordered another toner that I thought was supposed to make my hair either silver or platinum (don't ask), but neither color ended up being mine as I had ordered the wrong toner. Again, I wished I had done more research, but it is what it is and now my hair is somewhere between hazel and CrayolaⓇ crayon gold.
Broken Lamp
Joern and I like to bicker a lot. I would say that we have achieved that status of conjoined twin old ladies/men. It's fun for us because neither of us really takes it seriously (except for when we do) and it really gets on his parents nerves. For example, at the lunch table today Joern and I had a whole opera about a little speck of food on his chin. I wanted him to wipe it off and he didn't want to, so I decided to act like I couldn't understand him because I couldn't get past the lentil on his chin while he decided to talk anyways. It was really funny because here Joern and I were, having a grand old time, while his mom was sitting directly across from us, trying not to blow like Yellowstone and rain her fire upon us. And so it is in this house.
Saturday; however, the bickering turned into a little bit more while Joern and I were trying to watch Netflix. I won't go into the details of who I think is justified and so on, but I would like to say that it doesn't make sense to point light at the Mac screen because it's "better for your eyes". The aftermath of the battle included a neck strain for Nat, a very angry Joern that didn't want to watch Netflix anymore, and a lamp that had it's plug decapitated.
Today is Monday and we (meaning me) got around to fixing the dang thing. I'm not sure why, but no one was on board with my idea of electric-taping the wires of the old lamp to the wires of a new plug. I mean, electric tape is made for this stuff and if the house burns down, then we can just sue the company that made the tape, right? Anyways, we ended up attaching a whole new head to the wires without electric tape and everyone's happy. I'm just not satisfied with the fact that there's no one to sue now when the house burns down.
Update
With the party bus for the England trip something like two or three weeks away, I am still trying to stay afloat in school and not get called on by a teacher until then. We had the official ground-rules meeting for the trip on Friday and I found out that we might be close enough to London to get the Starbuck'sⓇ You Are HereⓇ London mug after all. Win. Everyone is constantly saying that the food in Great Britain is supposed to be terrible, so I'm super excited to get up in there and try it for myself. Being a person that eats pretty much anything, I don't think I'll ever understand why people don't like certain foods to the point where they don't eat them. The closest I see myself coming to that point is bleu cheese and even then, I will still eat it without the slightest cringe.
Remember, flip flops are shoes
Nat
Broken Lamp
Joern and I like to bicker a lot. I would say that we have achieved that status of conjoined twin old ladies/men. It's fun for us because neither of us really takes it seriously (except for when we do) and it really gets on his parents nerves. For example, at the lunch table today Joern and I had a whole opera about a little speck of food on his chin. I wanted him to wipe it off and he didn't want to, so I decided to act like I couldn't understand him because I couldn't get past the lentil on his chin while he decided to talk anyways. It was really funny because here Joern and I were, having a grand old time, while his mom was sitting directly across from us, trying not to blow like Yellowstone and rain her fire upon us. And so it is in this house.
Saturday; however, the bickering turned into a little bit more while Joern and I were trying to watch Netflix. I won't go into the details of who I think is justified and so on, but I would like to say that it doesn't make sense to point light at the Mac screen because it's "better for your eyes". The aftermath of the battle included a neck strain for Nat, a very angry Joern that didn't want to watch Netflix anymore, and a lamp that had it's plug decapitated.
Today is Monday and we (meaning me) got around to fixing the dang thing. I'm not sure why, but no one was on board with my idea of electric-taping the wires of the old lamp to the wires of a new plug. I mean, electric tape is made for this stuff and if the house burns down, then we can just sue the company that made the tape, right? Anyways, we ended up attaching a whole new head to the wires without electric tape and everyone's happy. I'm just not satisfied with the fact that there's no one to sue now when the house burns down.
Update
With the party bus for the England trip something like two or three weeks away, I am still trying to stay afloat in school and not get called on by a teacher until then. We had the official ground-rules meeting for the trip on Friday and I found out that we might be close enough to London to get the Starbuck'sⓇ You Are HereⓇ London mug after all. Win. Everyone is constantly saying that the food in Great Britain is supposed to be terrible, so I'm super excited to get up in there and try it for myself. Being a person that eats pretty much anything, I don't think I'll ever understand why people don't like certain foods to the point where they don't eat them. The closest I see myself coming to that point is bleu cheese and even then, I will still eat it without the slightest cringe.
Remember, flip flops are shoes
Nat
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