Crap Sign From God

The Joan Zone

At a family reunion out of state, DJ’s service dog alerted to an ear infection. Since DJ gets ear infections like a frat boy in a dare, Duke got a lot of practice honing his skill. Duke is gone over the rainbow bridge now but his perfect legacy of diagnosing ear infections lives on.  However, Duke was a bit quirky. He tossed condescending looks better than any human.  He was all business in his service dog role but every once in awhile he did something nutty. 1913644_1080683317253_408245_n

My husband Steve has a freakish ability to find his way around any town. Even using old school paper maps he rarely got lost. But when he is lost – he is REALLY lost. And he does not cope with it well.  Suddenly, the boys and I are not funny.  We dispute this.  Some of our best zingers are triggered by Steve’s directionally challenged…

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Brondes Have More Fun

I have this misguided notion that I can do things without the education that others invested in, simply because I am determined. I know, right? Been that way all my life. On the upside, my many missteps along the way add a bit of flavor to my life. And believe me, I could major in mistakes.  Hey, look at that.  I am educated!  Anyway……

I am obsessed with hair color. I change mine, A LOT! And by a lot, I mean that my mother-in-law once got pictures developed and in a single package, I had three different hair colors. THREE! Who does that?

I colored my hair just hours before my very first date with my husband. My BFF, Neen, had worked hard at setting me up with him so she did not appreciate finding me with purple hair less than an hour before the date. In my defense, I think I should mention that Neen has no sense of adventure. Okay, she has a little sense of adventure – controlled adventure. Me? I am all out there. Which is why at the end of her very serious reprimand I replied “Oh, whatever. There is no sense in trying to dress all  this up. This man needs to know what he’s getting into cause lets face it, I got crazy you just can’t hide.”

My latest obsession is bronde hair. For those who don’t know, bronde is hair that is really neither blonde or brown but somewhere in between. I am a color-my-hair-at-home kinda girl with equal parts bravado and insanity so I trolled the web searching for ways to do it. When I discovered all the websites that advised not to do it at home that only spurred me on. Besides, it is only hair. It will grow out. I did mentioned the insanity part of my nature, right?

Obviously, I was not going to be able to capture the full beauty of these bronde ladies with a box color from Wal-Mart.

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17th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards - Arrivals

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A trip to my local Sally Beauty Store was required. My hair has natural red tones that are highly insulted when I try to color them. They rise up and turn my hair all sorts of unnatural colors- hence the purple hair. When you buy box hair color, you are given the hair color and the developing cream, which you must combine. When you go to a beauty supplier, you have to remember to buy both color and developer. I opted for Ion Intense Light Neutral Brown to mix with the standard level 20 developer. Because Sally’s is a beauty store that caters to the professionals, you have to buy the color and developer. This picture shows the Ion color box and the economy size developer. You can buy a bottle of 20 developer that is measured precisely for a single use. But we all know I can make good use of the mega size.

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The result was a beautiful rich color that made me consider whether I should stop there. Then my Asperger kid, who has no clue what tact is, says, “So, did you mean to color your hair black?” So, then I thought perhaps I should carry on. On to the highlighting stage.

Knowing, it is never a good idea to try to make someone else’s hair appear on my head; I studied multiple pictures of bronde hair and selected the things I liked from each. Placing highlights can be tricky business, which is why I use highlighting systems that come with a cap that designates where highlights should be placed. Now, I was going to have to choose between being bronde or the safety of the cap. It took nearly a second for me to decide. Bronde hair here I come!

Bronde hair has two levels of lightening so I purchased two packets of lightening powder and two small developers in levels 10 and 30. Before mixing anything, I used my pictures as a guide and determined where I wanted the highlights placed. I used small, colored non-tangling hair bands to section my hair. I used green ones to indicate the placement of the level 10 highlights and orange ones for level 30. That made it possible for me to compare the pictures I liked to where the highlights would actually be on my head.

I know the pictures I am using are not the best but …well; I do not have an excuse. I just did not want to take the time to make sure I had perfect pictures. Do not judge me. I am VERY busy. You have no idea the amount of time and energy it takes to maintain my insanity.

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As you can see, I once again went with the Ion brand. Normally I would have used all the developers in the same brand but my local Sally Beauty Supply did not have all I needed so I had to mix and match.

I placed the lower level highlights, the powder mixed with 10 developer, first because the higher developer (30) would not need as much time to reach the desired result. However, I love very light blonde hair with significantly darker ends that was not my goal. I wanted darker roots that gradually faded into a lighter color but with an obvious color difference between roots and tips. The result was a bit darker than my goal but I was still pleased with it. And apparently, my results were subtle enough that it has been 2 weeks and my father-in-law has yet to notice. Oh, I know what you are thinking. He is a man, he will not notice. Uh, wrong. The man is geriatric and still notice more hair changes than any self-respecting gay man is. Anyway…….

I started with this hair color

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And ended with this one.

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I may not have the overwhelming beauty of the stars whose pictures I included but i can certainly tell you without a doubt that brondes really do have more fun.

Crap Sign From God

At a family reunion out of state, DJ’s service dog alerted to an ear infection. Since DJ gets ear infections like a frat boy in a dare, Duke got a lot of practice honing his skill. Duke is gone over the rainbow bridge now but his perfect legacy of diagnosing ear infections lives on.  However, Duke was a bit quirky. He tossed condescending looks better than any human.  He was all business in his service dog role but every once in awhile he did something nutty. 1913644_1080683317253_408245_n

My husband Steve has a freakish ability to find his way around any town. Even using old school paper maps he rarely got lost. But when he is lost – he is REALLY lost. And he does not cope with it well.  Suddenly, the boys and I are not funny.  We dispute this.  Some of our best zingers are triggered by Steve’s directionally challenged road rage.  Along with finding us humorless, he suspends our free speech right. Saying things like; let’s ask for directions, I’m thirsty, I need to pee or haven’t we passed that Taco Bell three times now, is not well received. 

We were hunting the pharmacy where DJ’s pediatrician called in a prescription. A pharmacy, Steve insisted was nearby despite no evidence. About the third time around Taco Bell, I saw an elderly man shirtless and wearing sweat pants. It was 100 degrees.  He sat on the curb at a very busy intersection. Steve was too busy ranting about the poor signage in the entire state of Tennessee to see the man.

“Turn around I think that man needs help.”  It’s the only time a look made me flinch.

Soft giggles erupted from the boys. “Mom. I’m scared for you.” Colton belied his words by laughing. 

Steve is too compassionate to ignore someone in need. But that didn’t stop him muttering about the help I was going to need if the man was fine. He pulled off a perilous u-turn. Giggling whispers drifted from the back as the boys wagered what would happen next.   

As a former EMT, I exited the passenger side and assessed the situation.  It took seconds to determine the man was in a medical crisis. I went back to the van and told Steve to dial 911.

1919144_10204239650111376_3578206944196043747_nI love my husband but he turned organizational skills into an art form.  He makes a four-page list to boil pasta.  Still, his request for me to give him a moment to form a plan took me by surprise.  I cocked my head. “You need a plan to dial 911? Push 9 1 1 on the phone. That’s the plan.”  At least the boys found my sarcastic slow talk funny.

“I’d to love to call 911 but I have no idea where I am.”

“Maybe 911 can help you find yourself.” Pause.  “And the pharmacy.”  Nope. I still wasn’t funny.

It’s reasonable to assume, at this point the crazy comments are depleted. Nope. When he made contact with 911 he asked her to repeat her question. She did. He looked at me nonplussed. “She wants to know whose side I’m on.”  Before I formulated a response he uttered an uncertain answer. “The victim’s?”

That sent the boys into howling laughter.

“No. Whose side of the state line are you on?”border

“I don’t know. What are my choices?”

Dalton laughed so hard he fell over. “The victim’s,” he uttered lost in tear-inducing laughter.

Colton intermingled his words with laughter. “Dad’s going to be on one of those World’s Dumbest shows.”

“And the shame of it will send us into witness protection. Or wherever they send people who think 911 picks a side.”

Somehow EMS found us. Back in the van Steve craned his neck all around.  “There’s no state line sign. What state is she talking about?”  He coated his words in heavy self-righteous indignation.

Colton got so involved in the comedy he forgot the “Dad is lost rules” and asked to stop for a drink. Request denied.  “Dad. I’m a kid with Aspergers in need of a drink.”  Rejected. From that moment on every time we passed a store Colton pressed his face against the window, clawing at it with animalistic tendencies and dramatically moaned “water.” thirsty

The elusive pharmacy was closer to Steve’s parents than us.  About the time we discovered they could get the prescription an explosion of stink filled the air. Dalton traced the source and screamed, “Duke pooped!”  Instead of letting us know he needed out, he unloaded in the car.  Pandemonium erupted.  The boys yelled and covered their noses, DJ started clapping, (who knows what that was about) Duke barked, Steve swore off the pharmacy chain for life, and I laughed until it hurt.

Steve whipped our van into a church parking lot and we all rolled out.  “Look!”  Dalton pointed to the church sign. It read, “This is a sign from God.”  That was the proverbial straw. Steve erupted into choice words but never completed a sentence.

Finally, back at the cabin, Colton, still in an uproar over not getting a drink, burst out of the van. He leveled all sorts of Asperger-ish threats.  He planned to sue Steve for child abuse because he was dehydrated. In the middle of Colton’s tirade, Steve noticed the cooler we thought we left at the reunion.  Colton was using it as a headrest.  It was filled with water bottles. Steve snatched one up.  “Colton! The whole time you aggravated me for a drink you were laying on a cooler full of them!”

Colton shrugged and looked at me. “Well, now we know why God gave us a sign of crap. Dad’s gonna beat it out of me.”