In Which I Nap on My Desk in Front of All and Sundry and Ponder Random Questions of Grooming

[itsallovernow]

The show is over. Long live the show. We survived. We danced well. We did not scream at anyone. No one's ears flew off and landed in the soup. We were sparkly and glittery and alluring and jingly and I thank god that it is only once a year. There is nothing like being in a show that you're putting on.

But the bottom of my feet hurt so badly that I didn't want to put shoes on this morning. Hell, I barely got out of bed this morning, so I guess I should be happy that I located my shoes. Little black cat of badness, who has taken to rooting the lid off my shoe box and sleeping on my new red boots, but knows he is much adored and won't be skinned alive for this, was curled up tightly under my chin, paws wrapped around my arm, and I was so, so tired, and the rain beat down, staccato and even, and, and, it's just unfair somedays, being adult and responsible and employed.

The farscapefriday drabbles were fantastic. This is a blanket statement about them because I just don't have time to comment individually - they were clever, funny, seductive, just plain wrong, fruitcentric, rich, descriptive and a hell of a lot of fun. Thanks to shaye for the topic.

It's grey and rainy, which is such a lovely thing to have happen here. The air conditioning on last week, and now the heater is humming a long.

Hope everyone had a nice Halloween. We splashed through the rain to visit M. at the restaurant. He purchased lizard eye contacts, and couldn't see, had to get right next to us before we were recognized. I drank much sake, and went to bed bleary eyed and damp with rain.

I neither read, nor wrote, nor accomplished anything productive except for hours of rehearsal, and sewing, and I died my hair, which came out an unexpected color. I've been a redhead all my life, wanted black hair, and have been oh so afraid, and now have a kind of black cherry color, though not on purpose. So do I scrub vigourously, until I can see the red, or do I have my hairdresser make it darker, make if fullfill my secret girlish desire to have long black hair, while fully realizing that the hair is never going to help me look like Claudia Black:) I'm thinking I should just coax it back to my normal red, but it's just oh so tempting. Mmmmm, shiny black hair, mmm.

Comments

[thassalia.livejournal.com]

Hee Hee. I think that's just the incentive I needed. I've never let my stylist do my color, because I needed to match it to some fake hair for so long that it was just easiest to do it myself when I wanted it one color or another:) This seems like a great opportunity.

And, though I really should go comment to everyone, I loved your drabble, and decided to read it as a preview of coming attractions. (Snort - although, there was no pun intended there:)