I am a blond, but I keep it on the down low. It’s not a big secret or anything. It’s just that I’m a much better brunette and if the world believes L’Oreal Preference 4 is my natural color, who am I to disabuse them of the notion? Every so often, the truth about my hair comes out and somebody flips out about it. They usually ask for photographic evidence, which makes them flip out some more. (“But your eyebrows are dark! How can your eyebrows be dark?”)
It happened at work a few weeks ago, and my coworker’s subsequent dark-eyebrow-crisis attracted the attention of my boss, who drifted in and saw the picture.
I had a tiny breakdown last week. I blame Theodore Roosevelt.
People go on and on about Roosevelt, talking about how he rode a moose, admiring him for getting shot just before a speech and powering through it, thanking him for regulating food so we don’t accidentally eat poor orphans anymore. Whatever. He’s always been a little too mainstream for me. I like my presidents so low-key that people forgot about them while they were still in office. Continue reading