The best thing that's happened to me in weeks and weeks happened last night at 8.
I dyed my hair. Purple.
Purple was not the color on the box. That color was brown, natural, back-to-basics brown.
But the thirsty blonde highlights soaked up all the purple, and now my head looks like a grape Popsicle.
It's an easy fix, the Loreal hotline says: wash my hair twice a day until the purple fades away.
But I can't go out. Not like this.
So I've made a nice shepard's pie to take to the fire department. I've vacuumed, and wrapped Christmas gifts. I've sat in my room, thinking about how I need to be a more patient mom, about what I might bring to my dad's on Christmas, about how grateful I am to have a hardworking, kind, bright agent like Holly. About how beautifully Dominic's map of America is turning out. About how I'll revise my writing curriculum for winter. About what I might write next. About how I will finish Ape House today, and start Hunger Games tomorrow.
I've sat in my room with my purple head, and I've thought and breathed and cried because of how much I've missed that.
FALL 2015 TOUR
1 year ago