Blondes Are Overrated

Remember that time when I went to Europe with my 14 year old daughter and promised to blog about it but instead of filling my blog with amusing and interesting anecdotes about how an ape sat on my head and tried to rape my face, or how I almost fell off a camel or how my plane almost fell from the sky and the cabin crew yelled at me because I was exiting our plane too slowly as it was on fire, I just didn't write anything at all?

Those were good times.

Turns out being an official world traveler rather kicked my aging arse. A little thing like jet lag and breathing in recycled airplane air for 24 hours led to my body being held hostage by a vicious army of germs determined to maim me.

And then there is the wee small thing of spending every. single. day. since my return at the hospital because Jumbster had a rather serious accident as I was flying home from Barcelona.

But all of that is a story for tomorrow.

Today I thought I'd share something else with you. Mostly because I'm pressed for time because I have to take the Jumbster back in so more of his skin can be peeled off.

How I wish I was exaggerating.

Remember all those times I whine write about needing to do something different with my hair and then never really doing anything different with my hair at all?

Ya. Well this wasn't one of those times.

This was me 10 days ago.

This was me a few days ago.

This was me. Yesterday.

Turns out making hair care decisions when you are jetlagged and deliriously ill is surprisingly easy. All you have to do is sit in your hair stylist's chair and tell her to do whatever the heck she wants.

"Just make me pretty."

You know what's fun? Not telling your husband you just killed your natural blonde hair, the colour he adored and loved and possibly treasured and then texting him a picture of your new auburn locks without any warning.

Also fun? Hearing him hyperventilate on the phone and then try and cover his shock (and possibly horror) by telling you it looks fine. He still loves me. Even as he sounds like he's about to yak on the other end of the phone.

So, do me a solid and tell me what you think of it, because my husband is too busy rocking back and forth in a dark corner, weeping over photos of when I was a blonde to be of any use to my ego.

Next up? I'm totally working up the courage for a pixie cut. Just don't tell my husband. Heh.

I Have No Idea Where I Am

So far on this travel adventure with my daughter I have learned several things:

American teens are JUST as irritating as the Canadian kind. And by irritating I mean completely sweet. Ya. That's what I mean. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.)

Any teenaged girl, regardless of origin and nationality, will lose any and all capacity for reason upon walking into a cafeteria filled with teenaged European football players still in uniform.

Tour guides named Alberrrrrrrrrto make me smile.

Family politics will follow you across the planet and you will find yourself flipping off your brother-in-law on occasion and wondering what the penalty would be for smothering him with a travel pillow.

14 year old cousins will find a way to squabble no matter the country they are in. But just when you think you are about to lose your mind and your patience with them, you will find the two of them laughing and splashing together in the Atlantic ocean like they hadn't just tried to rip each others faces off hours earlier.

A church made out of the remains of thousands of human skeletons is only slightly less creepy than one might think yet slightly mustier than one would suppose.

When home alone with his sons, Boo will rise to the challenge by not only replacing Frac's entire wardrobe but by also shearing his youngest son's hair so the Jumbster no longer resembles a shaggy homeless child. Well done Boo.

I have also learned how precious free wifi is, how irritating blogging on an iPhone is and how important it is to pack a travel hair dryer or you will spend a lot of time walking around in Europe looking like a stringy haired rat.

Awesome.



Picture above taken at Ponta da Piedade, Portugal.

*I take no responsibility for any spelling or grammatical errors. Damn you Autocorrect. Damn youuuuu.*

Hello from Portugal!

I wrote an entire post for y'all, on my iPhone, typed out with the old two finger hunt and peck method while cracked out on outrageous international roaming fees because my darling hotel doesn't have wifi.

I'm refraining from whining about a hotel not having wifi because I'm in freaking Portugal, the weather is beautiful and the ocean is outside my window.

However, when I went to press publish on my post on this rinky dink phone I managed to press discard instead. Effectively setting my post lose into the ether of nothingness and losing my mind along the way.

Awesome.

Because I'm jetlagged and exhausted from walking around Lisbon and Sintra today doing while doing nothing but take pictures and lick the sugared sweetness from one bakery treat after another, I give up.

I know. My life is terrible. Try not to hate me.

I will be back tomorrow, hopefully with wifi, but until then I leave you with these.





Im having a blast.