posted on July 14, 2004 @ 4:52 pm
because i glanced down the hair dye aisle at walgreen's.
huzzah for the illusion of my skin looking so great.
i look kind of crazed. arrr! the streaks are actually brighter than that.
that's what i put on it. that's how resistant my hair has gotten.
don't you love my nose? i love my nose. it's one of the random parts of me i adore. the other being my eyes. the rest of me can go to hell (as i'm sure it will one day).
i realize my roots and the streaks i had are the only parts that changed; the black didn't even so much as consider. jared said it looked cool, though, and that's validation enough. ;) what i like about my roots always changing, and changing well because i can do your roots like nobody's business, is that people think it's my natural hair color. and since this isn't a bizarre shade, it really looks like i could grow it.
also at walgreen's i bought stuff to take away my tan. it's just a cream i put on twice a day, but it also has sunscreen in it. that's what made my decision for me (there were actually several kinds to get). it says if nothing changes in three months to discontinue use. that's a long time. =/
"you want to take away your tan?"
i don't know how many times i've heard that.
i made a threat to my apartment manager today. yesterday i called about the shelves, as mentioned, and today i was going to appear in person. i'm a very scary bitch when i'm mad, despite my little-ness (vertically, that is). of course they weren't there, so i left them a message on the phone. i told her, "this is chelsea in 110. i was calling to ask about my shelves again. i realize you have to prepare apartments for people moving in, but my shelves should have been there when i moved in. i will call you every day until i come home and see shelves in my wall if i have to. thanks. bye."
for the past two years i have been ignored by my complexes, and i realize that's their job. they take your money, then disregard any problem you have. but they picked the wrong chick to fuck with this time. i've been working so much i'm hanging at the edge by my fingertips, and every day i come home to see boxes in my nook where shelves should be, there goes my grip. next week should be hell for my manager, considering that's when i'll most likely be talking to bobby about not getting the full-time position.
if you're a girl and need to get shit done, don't wear a skirt when you do it. get some pants and big boots, pull up your hair and lower your voice, and show them you have balls. luckily, my voice naturally deepens when i get pissed off.
now to call mom and brag about my intimidation tactics. sarah sent me this picture:
(the writing on the side says, "i'm in the wrong commercial.")