What have I been up to? Oh, the usual – dying my hair purple and making miniature vikings.
First let’s start with a picture of these ooey, gooey cinnamon rolls that I made FROM SCRATCH, like a freakin’ boss.
I had never done anything with yeast before, so I was curious to see how it would turn out. I think I was even more excited than the kids when it began to rise and eventually doubled in size.
Karis: “Yeast is alive? Yuck.”
Me: “Yes, it’s alive, but it’s really small.”
Karis: “Like Sea Monkeys?”
Me: “No, more like pro-biotics.”
Karis: “But what is yeast?”
Me: “Uh, it’s a little bug that eats sugar and turns it into alcohol… Wait. I’m totally screwing this up. I don’t know what yeast is. I’ll look it up after the rolls are finished.”
Yeast is NOT a bug, Internet. It’s a fungi. Why didn’t I know that? Anyway, now we all know. Go drop that knowledge on someone else today and feel intellectual.
The cinnamon rolls turned out amazing. They were deeelicious. And easy. How is Pillsbury even in business? After holding your breath and being filled with anxiety while waiting for the cardboard tube to POP, you have to pull apart the smooshed “rolls” and restick the crusty brown chunks that have gotten cemented to the butt of the roll in front of it, and bake them, and in the end they just taste like chemicals. Baking from scratch wins again.
On to my hair. I got it into my head that I wanted to dye the tips of my hair lavender. I don’t know why. I don’t remember the exact moment when I decided that would be a good idea. I really dislike my stringy, thinning, frizzy hair, and thought, well, if I’m going to chop it off, I might as well do something interesting with the ends before they go. In my mind they would look beautiful and mermaid-like and magically make my hair thicker and longer somehow. (Note to self – just go buy colored hair extensions next time.)
To get a bright color in your hair you must first bleach it. I did not enjoy any part of this little adventure, but the bleach was by far my least favorite part. After doing massive amounts of research (meaning I watched a thousand Youtube videos) I decided to put my hair in pigtails and then put the pigtails together under my chin into one pony tail. This was supposed to ensure even sides.
HAHAHAHAHAHA. I’m such a sucker.
Though I had originally intended to only bleach and dye the TIPS, the bleach kept making its way farther up my ponytail. Eventually half the length of my hair was bleached and subsequently dyed purple. Yeah, that seems about right. I didn’t expect to not screw this up, you guys, so when the big reveal happened and my hair was a bit uneven (a full stripe of bleached but undyed hair remains on my right side. Awesome.) I just nodded, secure in the knowledge that all was as it should be in this universe.
I believe my mother summed up this whole fiasco best when she politely asked, “And what exactly do you want to project to others about yourself with that kind of hair?” (I’m paraphrasing. I can’t remember her exact words – just the meaning behind them.)
I’m not too worried about what I’m projecting to others. My hair spends 99% of its life in a granny bun held in place by a scrunchie. (Yes, I am a sex kitten.)
Now, what was it I was saying about vikings? Oh, yeah, I HAD TO MAKE 37 OF THE DAMN THINGS. Little viking magnets to be exact. Karis is learning about the economy, so they are doing third grade businesses. The kids have to set up businesses and corporations, and eventually sell their goods to other students. She decided her product would be magnets. Great! How fun! I carefully read the single, not-very-informative page she brought home detailing the project. It said she would need to make thirty things to sell. That’s all it said. THIRTY. Sure, I can handle thirty.
The division of labor on this project was roughly 10/90. I did the bulk of the work because it required a hot glue gun. I gotta be honest, I think she’s plenty old enough to start burning herself with a hot glue gun. The next project she has I’m letting her go for it.
The Monday before the magnets were due I get another letter. This one says they require thirty things PER FREAKIN’ SALES DAY of which there are three. WHAT? Where the hell did that come from? How the eff did we go from thirty to ninety? It didn’t help that I got this letter after spending hours hunched over cutting out felt and hot gluing googlie eyes.
*sigh* Oh well. If she sells a bunch of the little buggers I’ll cheer for her and smile as we make more. (But I told her to price them high. Let’s not ask for more work if we don’t need to, amiright?)