Let me start by saying that I am so mad at myself for not blogging on Friday the 13th, mainly for two reasons, the first being that Luke and I had started talking about my favorite horror scenes at Steak 'N Shake last Wednesday and the timing couldn't have been better, and the second being it was exactly one week since my last post, and I do so enjoy having a method to my madness. Now this entry has to do quadruple-duty on topics that could've managed just fine without any additional help, thank you very much. But both of us are up to the challenge.
Remember back in June when I talked about returning to my natural hair color without the assistance of professional dye products? Here's how far I got before I wanted to poke my eyes out with a pretzel rod, just to avoid being subjected to the train wreck that was my head. I like to mentally refer to this picture as Das Root:
This was taken on October 14, a mere hours before my cut and color at Enve--yes, the Chicago salon; yes, I've abandoned all hope of finding reputable hair care in Indianapolis; yes, I no longer care about exposing potential fetuses to harmful chemicals and dyes; YES, I AM OK WITH THAT. (But not really on that last one, since a number of Internet mommies informed me the probability of that happening is next to zero.) However, I did go the more practical route in terms of selecting a dye color, one that brought a little sexy back but wouldn't rat me out if I spaced out the length between touch ups. Here is the final result, which I'm pretty happy with, except the cut is still too short thanks to Magda the Racist Hairdresser and her equally bigoted texturizing comb.
Things around here are relatively tame. Last week I helped my boss write a book chapter for some chemistry association, and now I'm focusing on design for our client newsletter. Seeing as I spend the majority of my time at work devouring threads on AMC's message board, this recent flow of activity is a welcome improvement. I've also been on the verge of coming down with some sore throat/primal hunger/hot flash extravaganza that part of me hopes is an early sign of pregnancy but intellectually realizes is just a bug. Our Chi-town visit was fun, as we celebrated my father's forty-sixth birthday and hopped around the neighborhood to visit family and friends.
(Us kids chipped in to present my father with a gift certificate to his favorite Harley store, because he now loves that bike more than life itself. The poor man was accosted this weekend by Geo, who coated the inside of his ear with blue frosting, and Ryan, our hairdresser in training, who couldn't keep from running her hands through his Fantastic Sam's haircut and lamenting the unevenness of his ends.)
Here I am with Brooke and little Michael, now four months old. Though he was busy preparing for his baptism, he was still gracious enough to bestow a series of gifts on my right shoulder. In reply, I smelled his head and Brooke's arms received a well-deserved rest. Everybody wins!
We also saw my Uncle Chuckie and cousins Kenny and Stacey, who are on the cusp of experiencing their first month without my Auntie Debbie. It seems like my family can't get a break on the cancer front: my Auntie Donna, my mother's youngest sister and one of my favorite people in the whole world, was diagnosed with both brain cancer and breast cancer in the spring and is about to undergo seven weeks of radiation, five days a week. I keep thinking I need to address these topics with some lengthy, meaningful observations, but that whole post could be summed up in two words. Be kind. To yourself, to each other, to this unpredictable world we live in. Please keep them all in your prayers.
Still with me? Cuz there's more!
I have decided my relationship with Blogger should meet a timely and not-soon-enough demise, allowing me to explore a more emotionally satisfying connection with its for-profit counterparts. However, I refuse to initiate a courtship with Typepad until I can register for an account using a domain name that I thought of and paid for all by my own damn self. Except not really, because after months of scribbling on old drafts of my lab's clinical directory, I have yet to be inspired by a site name that's smart but not cheesy, funny but not embarrassing, original but not long, and relates somehow to my online persona or blog title. Thus, I have no choice but to call upon your own creative juices to name. my. BLOG!
(Insert TV game show theme song of your choice here and tell me which one you went with in the comments.)
You're up for the challenge, aren't you? Not only because you're savvy and charming, but also because Frema will put together a winning care package featuring a plethora of interesting and not at all Goodwill-worthy items straight from What're you lookin' at?'s headquarters? If I could, I'd arrange for some type of Deal or No Deal format wherein I fly twenty-six of you to Indianapolis, each of you armed with a case that bears your obviously fabulous submission, and I pick one of the cases for my very own and narrow down the list that way, but I'm pretty broke to be shelling out a trillion dollars on airfare for people I've never met, and besides, I'm nowhere near as captivating as Howie Mandel, whose newly bald head alone earns him a spot on my top five. If I had I top five, that is, which of course I don't, I'm a married woman for cripe's sake.
I'm counting on you, Internet. You're my only hope.
Official rules to come later, preferably when it's not one-thirty in the morning.
I am so not creative when it comes to stuff like that. I can't offer you any help other than to say that I loved the whole Fremalicious and Fremanitis stuff.
Did you see Deal or No Deal last night? The chick had the 1 million in her case! But she made the deal at like $186,000. D'oh.
Oh, and you are so freakin' adorable. That is all.
Posted by: Silly Hily | October 17, 2006 at 03:15 PM
I love your chin. I mean it, you have the best shaped chin in the world. Hands down.
And I love your hair.
And I just love you.
Best of luck to your Aunt and family. That must be hard. I can't even imagine.
As for some sort of name that isn't cheesy. How about www.fremaeatscheese.com, which I may have told you I ALMOST bought for myself (except with my name and not yours). I may have to think some more. As I WANT the prize. I know what good packages you send.x
Posted by: Isabel | October 17, 2006 at 04:36 PM
And here I was thinking Obi-Wan was our only hope!
Posted by: David McNelis | October 17, 2006 at 05:20 PM
I wish I had an amazing gift for naming blogs, but, alas, I do not.... so here's my recommendation for today:
www.willworkforspinachdip.com
Of course, that name doesn't fit the criteria for being "not too long," so I guess I have to sleep on it and get back to you in the near future with more ideas.
Posted by: Britt | October 17, 2006 at 09:11 PM
How about iamfremahearmeroar.com? Or maybe just iamfrema.com or iamfremaandyouarenot.com.
Posted by: mjd | October 17, 2006 at 10:13 PM
You look pretty darn happy with that baby in your arms!
"Be kind" is the very best advice. My thoughts are with you and your family.
I'll be thinking some about your title contest. Good luck with that!
Posted by: gawilli | October 17, 2006 at 11:52 PM
So very sorry about both of your aunts. Don't you want to just scream and shout,"Where the hell is this coming from?" and "Why the hell does it keep happening?" and, yes,"It's not fair!!!" God bless all of you. p.s. I like your Mother-in law's blog name suggestion.... and oh, Where is Luke? We miss him!!!
Posted by: mrs. c (molly's mom) | October 18, 2006 at 01:44 AM
Hi again Frema. I love your pics. You are too damn cute. As you can tell by the lame name I chose,I have no talent for blog naming.I just wanted to tell you I'm thinking of you.
Posted by: debi | October 18, 2006 at 04:27 AM
You are absolutely allowed to have a top five as a married woman. Its a rule, actually.
Also am still trying to think of a cute name...will get back to you.
Posted by: PaintingChef | October 18, 2006 at 10:41 AM
Your hair looks great!!!
Posted by: butterflygirl | October 19, 2006 at 01:09 AM