Now that i have completed the promised order of informing -- myself, my husband, my mother, specific friends -- i can let you all know my news.

Every morning as of exactly 3 weeks after i wrote the G.E.D., i have been calling the phone number i was given to see if i had passed, failed... or whatever it was they were going to tell me over the phone. The last time i called, the automated voices (yes, different voices for some reason) said, "The following information pertains to the test you took on" (new voice) "March 21, 2007" (back to first voice) "The documents we have sent you are" (new voice) "a diploma". I was so shocked, i called again with a reference number they gave me. Same disjointed recording.

I immediately called (e:Uncutsaniflush) at work... and, of course, burst into tears. So much of my self worth has been tied up in my lack of education that i just didn't know how to process the information. Part of me still doesn't. I suspect once the actual document arrives, i will feel even more like jumping up and down.

I would like to thank (e:Theecarey) profusely... you gave me that book that really started the ball rolling... and inspired me more than you may ever know.

Thanks, too, (e:Ladycroft) for the information you were kind enough to drop off to me. And, sadly, that debate regarding what should or should not be allowed for students versus employees of an educational facility we got into way back when. I didn't fully comprehend how overly sensitive i have been about my lack of education and i know i over reacted. An apology is in order, too. I am very sorry i over reacted. I honestly meant no insult to you and i am sorry if i did.

Talk about being a valued employee!!

Thanks so very much for my wonderful new car, (e:heidismadhouse) and (e:britian) !



Now, as well as shouting it when i see them on the street, every time i look at my desk i can shout it: MINI!!!

John from Salon Now can kiss my ass.

When i called a week or so ago and told him i not only needed a colour, but probably a colour correction , he booked me in at 2.30 today, knowing they close at 4. I didn't think it would be enough time. But, hey, it's been a while since i worked in a salon, so i guess i must be rusty. I doubted my knowledge, and that is a pity.

I arrived on time, even a bit early and waited 40 minutes. Liz was running late. And i could see she was working hard trying not to be late.

When i sat down and told her what i wanted, she had a bit of a meltdown. I told her that i told the person who answered the phone what i wanted and needed and was told there would be enough time. But there wasn't.

And now, i can put the voice to the face and the name to both, thanks to Liz telling me his name. John answered the phone and booked me.

Of course, i left disappointed in what i have. It's OK. Not great, but OK.

Liz did her best and stayed over an hour and half late to finish it. I have no issue with what she did and tried to do for me. She calmed down, calmed me down and got my hair to a point when it looks... well, less fucked up. And not bad, not bad at all. Considering the time contraints and the messed up head of hair she had to work with, she worked her ass off.

But it isn't what i wanted. Not the pretty reds i wanted to be out in the warm Tennessee air with at our friend's wedding.

And i don't want to be upset about it because it is just hair. Hair grows. And now, when it grows, i won't have too much of a regrowth line.

But i am upset about it. I wanted to enjoy the walk from the salon at Allen and Elmwood home here to Bird and Grant. Nice day, pretty red hair... opps... well, it was a nice walk. Shame that every step i took i was less and less happy with my damn hair.

Since you have moved from food to trash, (e:Paul), i thought i would take and post a couple of pictures of the very full dumpster at the estate sale building for you.





As i mentioned, i really really really loved throwing things out the window into that dumpster. Now, it is full. Boo hoo...

I have a few things i need to clear up. I don't think it's a big deal, but i just don't want ya'll to get the wrong idea.

My mean and evil bosses are not really mean and/or evil. But don't tell them i said that. Truth be told, i'm rather fond of both of them.

One of them can't decide where her bra is supposed to go. Psst... inside the shirt. No wonder she's know for being mad.



And the other claims to know how to do laundry. Can't tell from the look of this shirt, now can you?



I am ever so grateful that i am the one that holds the camera. Who knows what kind of pictures of me they would take!

I've had a lot of jobs in my time, but i've never had as much fun working as i do with them. Honestly, people, how many of you can say you leave work tired but happy, laughing and dirty, almost looking forward to another day of it?



Working for them, i feel valued and worthy. Can't say, job wise, it's happened to me before...