Hi. I was noble today and decided to save money by coloring my hair myself. Not to mention it was too late to get an appointment in time for my lunch tomorrow. Not to mention I've had a box of hair color languishing on my bathroom shelf, for, lo, these multiple decades. And just one of these days I'm going to clean out all my bathroom drawers and closet and it will be nice to have one less thing to demoralize me when I do get around to it.

The color on the box said and demonstrated (via picture) Light Brown. Good. But, as we all know, that means nothing. Absolutely less than nothing.

My next concern is the age of the hair color itself, which, although unknown exactly, is no less than ancient. Will I have hair when the process is complete? Or will I have to adapt to the shaved look?

Finally, and worst of all, I wonder where the stray droplets of hair color will land this time. Every time I color my hair, which hasn't happened lately, I am positive I have been so careful in application that it is impossible that any colorful specks went anywhere but on my head, their direct and final destination. HA! Who am I kidding? So, today I am not quite so naive, I am prepared. I just hope the strays don't land on my nice cushy white bathroom rug. Please! In my eyes? NEVER! The wood floor is not a good choice either (hence I didn't remove the white rug, that and indolence). These and a million other undesirable landing spots.

So I glopped all the color on and sat around for 30 minutes reading package inserts and directions that had been littering the bathroom counter, lo, forever. Things like the new thermometer and Blink and Clean Eye Drops and KISS ME Mascara (which is tubes going on your lashes). Umm, I had originally typed Blind and Clean Eye Drops, good grief. I always get my d's and k's reversed. And reading another chapter of How Do I Clean the Moosehead and 99 Other Worthy Housekeeping Questions. Something like that.

Now the buzzer goes off and into the shower we go, where more drops of color can fly, but at least this time they are diluted with HtwoO.

The color itself turned out very monotone and dark brown. In other words, BLAH! and just short of hideous But that's okay because I like drab and boring, I cannot stand highlights, which a couple of hairdressers have pawned off on me, on me. I look like an idiot with highlights. Also, we know that within two washes of the head, the color will automatically lighten from drab to something a little more palatable.

Now I'm drying my hair and there it is! The naughty little drop. And I don't need to tell you where it is. It's squarely in the grout line. We've hashed this out before, how grout has magical properties that suck any airborne particle of naughty, like grease or hair color, right into its greedy little jaws. You know, it would be one thing if grout had the area of the Grand Canyon. It just slays me that a thin line can beckon and all willingly comply, with no resistance whatsoever.

I immediately scoured the speck with toothpaste. Then, since that didn't work, I squirted Tilex, which helped. I scrubbed with the German toothbrush we got on the airplane to Germany. But, it's still there, fainter, but there.

THEN, after thinking, There is always a price to pay for saving money, I found a big bad bloblet of color on the wood floor, over by the wall. I dabbed that up, but now the wood floor has a big bad fat dark brown freckle...for good. The wood floor in the bathroom is a nice honey color, sorta like my hair was supposed to turn out.

How I blogged about this, I'll never know. I'll have to save my pitiful Crate and Barrel story for tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm sorry I didn't buy the adorable honeycomb soaps at Marshall's tonight for my friends birthday present at lunch tomorrow. Her birthday is in January, that is all I know. But I need a gift because she was a doll and gave me a gift on my birthday. I have a one in 31 chance that her birthday is actually tomorrow. It was her idea for lunch but I picked the day.

Yup, I think I'll be flying by Marshall's on my way to this lunch because, really, what do you get the lady who has everything she wants and is the perfect housekeeper (I've blogged about her) and has very high and particular taste if you don't get her adorable honeycomb soaps? Believe me, I tried to find something and I talked myself out of everything. Like I said to myself, I can't get her fancy guest soaps, she probably only uses pump dispensers, because that is neater (even if it's not cuter). And I can't get herAnnie B's Homemade Caramels because she doesn't eat sweets (that's no fun). And I can't get her the cute little purse I got for Crissy because she might carry only COACH (well, she might). This gal doesn't suffer fools gladly (she also has a GREAT personality, I love her). When I got home empty handed, Mike says, It's the thought that counts (meaning, WHY didn't I get her SOMETHING?).

I don't know why I didn't get her something, I was in a daze, a franticky panticky daze. You know me and last second birthday presents! Even though I was looking the night before for this gift, it really counts as the last second because I can only arise early enough tomorrow to allow the exact amount of time I require to get there in just about one piece. And, trust me, that does not include swooping by Marshall's, which is in the direct opposite direction. Because, of course, how do I know if the Marshall's right next to where we are having lunch will have the cute little honeycomb soaps?

Good night, see you tomorrow!

KEM PS The caramels are REALLY good!