so smart now....

I dearly apologize, comrades. It appears that I am currently much too intelligent to spend my time on such a blog. As you can see below, my intelligence factor has been greatly upgraded. Maybe I will turn this blog into a "word of the day" vocabulary challenge for you, or throw in some Sudoku for a good time.

For those of you who are wondering if these are real, of course they are. Someone of my intelligence would not fake such a thing.

Now please excuse me, I have to partake in an online studious endeavor, further enhancing my mental capacities. And no, I do not mean Facebook. I am probably too smart for that now, as well. *sigh* I will probably throw you nincompoops a bone, and continue to interact with you. It will probably be amusing.

Farewell.

It's like I don't even know myself anymore. Every time I walk by a mirror, I recoil in horror. No, I didn't get a haircut. Something much worse. Something that is a part of me and who I am, and has been all my life, without me even realizing it.

One of my nephews has a biology assignment regarding recessive traits. He is looking at earlobes- attached vs. unattached. So I get a message asking us to have a look at all of our earlobes. No problem! I'm thinking in my head that my earlobes are definitely unattached so I don't need to check, but I take a look at all 3 of the kids. Yep, all unattached as well. The kids wondered what I was talking about so I google some pictures to show them the difference. For those of you who may want a visual, here you go. So as we're looking I'm thinking oh good, we all

Top row of ears are all unattached earlobes. Bottom row are all attached.

 have unattached earlobes which are clearly more attractive, in my opinion. A cute little curve at the bottom, not all attached to your head in a Frankenstein manner like those gross attached ears. I check Droid's picture because he wasn't home. Unattached as well! So I decide to go have a little peek in the mirror at my cute unattached earlobes just to admire them. And that is when my world fell apart.

OMG. I am Frankenstein. How did those get there?? How did I never know???  All this time I thought I had cute little unattached earlobes, with an adorable little curve at the bottom. But there on the side of my head sat a horrible looking attached ear.

Every time I look at my ear now, it's like I'm looking at someone else's ear.  I feel like I was abducted by aliens, but instead of a probe, they gave me ears.
 I can tell Droid looks at me different now.

So I dare you to go look at your own ears in the mirror. If you are as traumatized as me, don't worry, I'm thinking of starting a support group. In the mean time, I guess this solves my "should I get a pixie haircut" dilemma. No way am I flaunting my Frankenstein ears.

Wow, I just realized Pat and I have the same smile. If you look at my hair blog (not hair ball), and look at my pics and the future me if I go pixie style (Pat), WE TOTALLY HAVE THE SAME SMILE!

Why am I proud of that?

Oh no, not again. Here comes that familiar feeling. It comes as predictable as the change of seasons....that urge to cut my hair. Every stinking year it happens. Just ask Boogie and Droid, I'm pretty sure they are ready to give me a permanent balding so they never have to hear me talk about it again. I would say ask Tron, but she is pretty much as bad as me. Although once I was so desperate I named her executive decision maker on my hair. That promptly ended when I asked her to make a decision on if I should get bangs or not. She said no, then immediately went and got herself some bangs. She was clearly abusing her power.

That permanent balding would also protect Boogie, Droid and anyone else in my near vicinity, from what happens after I follow through on that feeling. Regret, dread and the constant repetition of "Do you like my hair? Really? Tell me the truth." I usually completely hate the new do, and start the process of growing it out all over. Again.

It doesn't necessarily have to be just a cut. I've been a redhead (okay, that was because I attempted to do my own highlights and it looked like a sun exploded on my forehead area only. Obviously the smart thing to do was cover my entire head with red dye. Because Ronald McDonald looks so much better then a sun explosion). I've been a brunette. That was fun, but I just didn't feel like myself (no comments on how I probably looked too smart as a brunette, and as a natural blonde am not used to that!) Technically I've done black hair as well, but that was in the 5th grade for a school project. I should have learned my lesson then, when it took at least 2 years to get my hair back to normal colour.

And don't even get me started on the times I've cut my own hair, or let non-haircutting professionals cut it for me! The compounding problem is that once I decide to do it, it has to happen like, NOW! Once, in middle school I wanted to cut my hair so badly, but Boogie wouldn't do it that second, so I decided I could probably do it myself. So, with hair down to the middle of my back, I pulled it into a ponytail and chopped. WOW. That was not a good look. I can't even tell you how mad Boogie was at me. She threatened to send me to school the next day like that. She "fixed" it, but it didn't matter. My boyfriend at the time still broke up with me the next day. That is the degree of badness my haircut had reached.

Currently I'm itching for a pixie cut. That is one thing I've never done. But I know myself, and I know my face is too lame (thanks Bells Palsy! now that is something I need to blog about!) and my rear end is too big, to pull it off. I'm pretty sure I would end up looking like the blonde Pat from Saturday Night Live. And I also know myself, and know I would not be able to look in a mirror for the next 2 years as it grew out to a normal length.

So, for now I am resisting the urge. Who knows, maybe one day I'll make a blog poll and let you blog faces decide on if I should cut it or not, because that would be pretty funny. And at least then I could blame you guys, and refer to you as jerk faces from that point on. That also would be pretty funny (well, to me).

Please enjoy a gallery of some of my past moments in hair (ps. most of them are crappy old web cam pics because after I did something drastic to my hair, I would immediately send a picture to my mom and dad so I could repeatedly ask them what they thought):

Short!

Red head days!

Back to short!

Getting longer again!

Dark!

Future??????

Ok wait, I got something!

I swear to the universe, I am going to write a Parenting book and it is only going to have one chapter, and one sentence. Here is an excerpt from my future book, free for all you blog faces (ok, it's the whole book, whatevs. Saves me actually having to find a publisher).

Chapter 1: Get a Dog

Seriously, get a dog. 

That's pretty much all my book needs to say. I can not even begin to tell you the amount of time my dog, Jo, has saved me. In terms of clean up I mean, it's not like she changes diapers or anything. But with the clean up, holy moly, I should rename her Molly Maid!! Especially with our youngest, Owen. Between his amazing arm, and the frequency, intensity and joy he gets out of chucking his food across my house, I can't decide if he is going to be the next John Elway (shout out Colorado!), or an amazing splatter paint artist. I don't care which one he turns out to be, as long as he uses his first paycheck to buy me new carpet (or better yet, hardwood floors).

Anyways, poor Jo has really taken one for the team. She used to be an amazing, slim, super Frisbee catching dog, but with each child, she has gained a few pounds due to her new clean up duty. I fear that after Owen, she might not be able to walk anymore. 

making sure there are no crumbs on their faces.

Ya, she can NOT fit in that bed anymore.

making sure this foreign object does not need to be cleaned up.

ok, sorry, how could I not put this here, it's adorable!

she even picks up Easter eggs for us! That is dedication.

She can barely get up or down these stairs now, so she definitely wouldn't be stopping on them!

Whoa, cake clean up overload!

Now she's a sell out. She naps with cats. And, for the record, that is just a doll she is smothering, not one of the children.

Uh...

I got nothin.

Winter fun...

I am so glad it's winter in Canada. Now I can finally play some of my all time favourite games. The other day for example, I played a top level game I like to call Fight or Flight Fantasy IV. It was like -67 degrees Celsius here, and good old Droid left the car on empty for me. As I started to fill 'er up, I thought, no way am I going to make it all the way, I am putting in $15 and that is it. That was like level one. I beat level one easy peasy, so I decided to dare myself to make it to $30. Level two was a little more difficult. I found myself staring at the counter, which was creeping up at mega slow mode, and some high, cold winds kicked in around me. I almost threw in the towel. But I held out and beat level two.

At this point I decided I could totally beat the boss and achieve full tank master level, but I had to develop some serious strategies. So I turned away from the counter and started to people watch. I totally enjoyed watching as I beat out a lady driving a Hummer. She maybe put in 5 bucks before she called it quits.  That's when I hit my stride, and before I knew it, bingo bango baby! Full tank master status! Mission full tank of gas on a mega cold windy morning complete!

I also seem to be playing Match That Grizzly Bear. That's where you see how much fat you can store up during the winter, and well, the term leg beard also comes into play. If you play it right, by spring, you look like a grizzly bear. I'm not actually a fan of this game, but I seem to be playing it anyways.

So ya... good times all around.