dirty words

The blue hair is Not Going To Fly, but it's actually not my fault. Apparently it wouldn't have been a big deal as an admin (our other admin girl bleached her bangs and the front chunks of her otherwise-black hair).

However, the ish has hit the fan at work about our new coworker-with-a-Y-not-an-I (who, after throwing an unbelievable fit and yelling at me and another coworker on Friday, didn't show up to work for 3 days and then resigned, making up a whole bunch of stuff that we all apparently said and did to her).

Now, I've evidently getting a backhanded promoted -- I have to act as the third sales agent and come in on Saturdays, but I'll continue to be paid as an admin -- and apparently I need to look RESPECTABLE and get rid of the blue now that I'm in Sales And Not Just Admin (or, I assume, do a better job of disguising it).

Okay, so, let's pretend I bleached the streaks first and it's permanent (or long-term semi-permanent) dye, and they've already nixed the idea of dyeing my hair black to cover it all.

Suggestions? Is there a kind of pigment-removing product that won't make your hair fall out if used on top of bleach? Are women's hats/headwraps back in fashion such that one could wear them to work and not just to church? Can expensive salons do this if I throw money at them?? HELP PLEEZ.

-- Little Red, who feels like quite enough of a moron already.

1) I have my license! My real live Oregon Real Estate License right here in my hot little hands. In my first official act as Licensed Real Estate Wench (per my sales manager, who says I have now graduated up from "Office Wench," though my job title and salary have not changed) is to call three hundred people and let them know about our new tower launch.

2) Anybody want to buy a condo in Portland? I can get you first pick of views and a smokin' deal. ;) Little Red Realty, at your service.

3) I have financially un-fucked myself. It will take about 3 months (W.T.F.) to get reimbursed by my company for the money I spent on office supplies, but I don't have to buy them out-of-pocket anymore from here on out. Now all I need is to apply for a new credit card and bring in my drycleaning (unrelated, but important), and then I will be 100% awesome.

4) Rattie McCutersons One and Two are still at the Humane Society. Sister and I promised the universe we would adopt them if they were still there as of 5 PM today, because I apparently need more things in my life to be responsible for. However, I did see a Beagle puppy yesterday SO CUTE that I almost adopted him without thinking about things like 10-hour workdays and Doggy Daycare, so I can just keep telling myself while taking care of the new rats, at least it is not a Beagle puppy.

I am going to take my state and national real estate exam today! Wheeee!

On the one hand, I'm all "OMFG NERVOUS PLEASE PASS MEEEE!" because if I don't pass, I will literally be killed dead with mock. And won't get the sweet sweeeeeet promotion that I'm being considered for. And, seriously, killed dead with mock.

On the other hand, I deal with utterly mentally deficient real estate co-op agents all day, every day, and they all passed this exam. So. How hard could it be?

I have to stop at the Rite-Aid on the way and get Life Savers. Seriously, the only thing I remember from my SAT prep class was bring lifesavers.

(Things I did not learn in my SAT prep class but still used to prepare include: rereading Medie's faboo Talia/Garibaldi fic (!!1!), putting my hair in pigtails, and falling asleep last night to the stupidly delightful Enterprise episode "Shuttlepod One." "The universe can giggle all it wants! It's still not getting any of our Bourbon." OMG LOVE.)

... always kills me ded with a spork. Oy vey.

OKAY. So I am almost done with the 150-hour real estate school monstrosity that has been the source of so much procrastination and whining and carrying-on for an entire year!

( A list, with some determined flailing! For my own reference. )

*laughs* I love Kyle in my moodicon! BUT ACK, I just swore I wouldn't write fanfic. *grits teeth*