that awkward moment…

… when you realize that your ex husband is the most attractive prospect on an online dating site.

let’s just be clear here. i’m not ready to date.

it’s only been about a month now, and the ex and i are still sharing the same space (and to his credit, he is the most kind and agreeable person i have ever broken up with).  i need to focus my efforts on things like moving, working, breathing, and cuddling my dog. i need to not be an idiot and jump into anything before i’ve had a chance to regroup and recover- at least a little. you know, common sense… blah blah blah, good advice… yadda yadda yadda…

BUT.

the sensible path sorta sucks. it’s lonely. and painful. and sad. so you start to try to make the breakup, the newfound single status (set carefully to your facebook for all to casually notice), more appealing than it really is. you dream of the possibilities. you start to remember everyone you’ve ever had a crush on and stalk them to determine current availability (just in case) (for later):

suicide blonde: a budgetary conundrum.

the year after i graduated from college, i was making a lot of bad decisions. i spent my first six months of independence sleeping on a couch and living pretty much entirely off of yoohoo and cheez doodles. and probably some other stuff that i shouldn’t write about because sometimes my mom read my blog. anyway, on one particularly messy evening, getting drunk off of swilly cumberland farms beer (golden anniversary if i recall correctly), my friend megan held up a box of ultra blue, and beckoned to the bathroom.

well, it’s NEVER a good idea to color your hair while drunk, but going platinum blonde while even so much as tipsy can only end in UTTER DISASTER. first and foremost, my hair was splotchy like a leopard. apparently, it’s important to make sure you get total coverage, which is hard to do when you’re half in the bag. also, make sure that you don’t leave the bleach on too long, or your hair will end up a crispy mess than no subsequent corrective hair coloring will ever be able to cover.  i knew i was in trouble when a 4 year old girl looked at me and earnestly asked: “why is part of your hair black and part of your hair yellow?”