If ever there was a day where it was completely appropriate to wear a dress with Doc Martens and silver glitter eyeshadow, that day is my birthday.
Which it is, so I am.
I am just vain enough that I couldn’t bear the thought of waking up another year older with really bad roots, so I dyed my hair last night. I love the week after a fresh dye job; right before it all goes to hell – I love my dad, but I really wish I didn’t inherit his bizarre hair patterns. One of these days I’ll stop dyeing altogether, and see if I end up with a full head of his bright white hair – and if I do, I’m dyeing it pink. I’ve always wanted to be Jem.
It’s the 169th day of the year!