Bangs!

Thanks to the majority of y’all, I got me some baaaaangs last night.

Lord, I’m a sucker for bangs and ponytails, but the best part was yet to come.

I even like it the following day, all slept-on and such! (With some minor touch-ups, of course.)

Enough about hair, people.

Um, right. WHO AM I KIDDING? It’s becoming hair central over here.

Here’s the deal – Hair Thursdays will start next week! Each Thursday will include 2 participants, and so far, we have enough volunteers to last through the rest of 2007! However, by all means, keep the emails coming!

(And this is the part where I wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into…I mean, I’m not a hair professional, I just play one on the internet…oh shit, what if I suck and everyone hates my guts and tells me I’m a fraud and I pick the wrong hairstyle…ohmygodhyperventilating where’sapaperbag.)

Hair Thursdays

I have a hair proposal. Would you be interested in a weekly hair makeover-type post?

Here’s what I’m thinking. I would post a submitted photo of a reader’s current hairstyle (someone wanting a change, of course), gather the necessary information, find some additional photos of new alternatives, and have you vote on which style you think would be best.

That way, I could satisfy my “hair-consulting” addiction, but let’s face it, I’m not the be all and end all of hair knowledge. This is a democracy, remember? Everyone should be able to put their two cents in. (PLEASE, for the love of God.)

Hopefully, by the end of each Thursday, we will have a highly-irritated participant who is being pulled in thirty different directions.

AWESOME.

What say you? We could start this week!

(I might be getting a little ahead of myself. Maybe next week.)

(Um, that is if someone wants to be the lucky inaugural hair participant. If so, email me at hair@whoorl.com.)

In other news, my stylist just called and bumped my appointment up to tomorrow. EEK!

UPDATE:

If you all are interested, you need to send me an email at hair@whoorl.com so I can put you on the list. The list is being formed first come, first served by the order of emails I receive. Once I have your email, I will send you a hair-questionnaire and request photos. I have filled September and early October, but I’m also thinking of doing 2 people each Thursday to keep the waiting time shorter.

Ping Pong Sundays

My run this morning nearly killed me. Seriously, running at 7am with a margarita hangover is not smart. Not smart at all. I think I might have experienced a small coronary infarction about two miles in, not to mention the sun was beyond blinding and HOT. Despite all of these issues, I pushed through and feel 100% better. But don’t think I wasn’t cursing Ping Pong Sundays the entire time.

This summer, Casa Whoorl’s front yard has become ping pong central on Sundays. D is a great ping pong player and it just so happens that our neighbor played tennis in college and is quite the player himself. Mix in the family on the other side of us, who force us to eat things like tacos and homemade rice and beans, and I think it’s safe to say, Sunday is now officially my favorite day. The play continues for a couple of hours while the grand total of 6 children run (well, Wito crawls and cruises the side of the house) through the grassy lawns, kicking balls and laughing hysterically. And what do the non-pongers do? We keep our eyes on the children while sipping delicious margaritas. I like our job the best.

After the fierce competitors have had their fill, the gaming table becomes host for all of the delicious food. Last night it was homemade salsa, guacamole, carnitas, tortillas, rice and beans and all the fixins. I’m pretty sure I ate my body weight in pork last night. There’s just nothing like a juicy carnitas taco followed by a tart margarita. And so we eat and laugh and eat and laugh until the only light left is from the moon, straining to see each other’s faces across the lawn.

However, the very best part is listening to the unpredictable comments from the 4 and 5-year-olds. As we were discussing our neighborhood’s overactive security force, one neighbor joked that if you sneeze too loudly, the security helicopters will circle your home for 45 minutes. Without missing a beat, the 5-year-old looked up from his ice cream cone, completely exasperated, and said, “Well, YOU KNOW, a red dog and a sweater just won’t cut it anymore!”

Huh?

After we put Wito down and the other children had finished dinner, the remaining kids scurried inside our neighbor’s house to play. As we continued to chat outside, we heard the leader of the pack (a 4-year-old girl) yell from inside her room, “Now, let’s get this PARTY STARTED!”

I can’t wait to hear what comes out of Wito’s mouth in the upcoming years. I have a feeling we won’t be disappointed.

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