Hello Hollywood

My mom entered a contest. She won. I now believe that we should all enter contests. On Friday, I skipped work (skipped is not the right word, I escaped from work) and we flew to L.A. We will now begin with the photo diary portion of our tour...

We ate a muffin on the plane. Total win. 

When we got to the airport, I remembered that I hate LAX after accidentally leaving the airport during a connection last summer--I had to wander around the (dodgy) airport until I found an entrance and then go through security again. This time...I had no trouble navigating. I wish this guy would meet me all over the place. After work. Outside my dentist's office. OR just pop up whenever I'm lost.

Not so sure he loved having his picture taken...

We spent the afternoon running away from superheros on Hollywood Boulvard. We did not quite get away from a persistent Japanese astronaut who grabbed on to my hand and said "photo?" for a few minutes. Don't worry folks, I didn't give in. Hmmmm, now I'm kind of wishing I had a picture of that astronaut lady. Shucks. We found some stars and hand prints that reminded us of loved ones. 

Michelle Phiffer for my Dad, James Franco for Michael, and Robert Downey Jr. for Mandy. I'm sure they're pumped about how thoughtful we are.

The Hollywood sign!

That was our hotel, and in other news the third Hangover movie is coming out. 

We signed up for a startour in one of those big buses. Well, we thought we signed up for a startour in one of those big buses. We actually signed up for a low-budge farmer truck bounce about. It was more fun that way though.

 We saw some celebrity houses which were beautiful--Bragelina's was very ugly though, I have to say--and enjoyed driving through such pretty areas. My favorite was seeing the mansion for the Godfather and my Mon liked/was shocked by Steven Speilberg's massive house on the hill.

There it is. Apparently Ironman was filmed there. 

Perhaps the most fun part of tour was making fun of the 'highlights' of the tour.

Tour guide: This is the mailbox that Lindsay Lohan hit.
My Mom: The first time or the second time?
Tour Guide: This is the grocery store where the stars shop.
--two minutes later we passed another grocery store--
My Mom: This is another grocery store where the stars shop.


I explained who Selena Gomez is to my out-of-touch mother. The little French girl next to me perked right up when we passed Taylor Lautner's house. 'Ohhhh, un werewolf!!!' I creepily eavesdropped in their conversation about 'Le Twillight.'

Johnny Depp had some strange Norman Rockwell-esque statues in front of his house. Maybe I should have stopped at Johnny Depp had some strange...

The most ridiculous part of the tour was probably when we stopped for at least a minute to view the driveway that the 'ambulance that drove Michael Jackson to the hospital came out of.' Golly gee mister!...that's weird. Let's go look at the fences around the playboy mansion, shall we?

We capped the day off by wandering a few dodgy side streets (I blame the maps app on my phone) for some Thai food and getting ready for our Katie Couric adventure. I think that deserves a blog post of it all.

In Which Purple Hair got me a Promotion

Yep, here comes a hair post.

Around Christmas, I put some purple on my hair. Not straight purple, I mixed some purple on with darker brown. It was a big deal--I'd never died my hair before. I even took my friend Mandy for moral support. The purple was just fun to me, but others cautioned that I would have trouble at work or that I would regret it.

There were three reasons I did it: I was bored; I was feeling a bit boring; and I was bored. Ok, two reasons.

Michael warmed up to it right away. Even my mom liked it, kinda.

That night I got a little nervous about going to work. I felt that my hair was news-worthy enough that I would be fielding comments about it all day. Turns out, work was craaaazy weird. Why you ask? Because nobody said. a. word. I got one 'evil twin' comment from the building manager, but my coworkers were mum. It was weird and spiked my paranoia reflex. It also made me wonder if I was so self obsessed that I was just walking around begging for attention. What was next? Short skirts? Tennis shoes that light up when you walk? Wearing a Wisconsin Cheesehead? All my thoughts were a little frantic and then I remembered -- these people are the crazy ones. When I think about it, I shouldn't have been surprised that my coworkers behaved a little crazily.

The next day, the president of the company asked me who did my hair and told me she thought it was a nice change. Then she said that she thought I handled myself well around my coworkers who were behaving oddly and offered me a promotion, a raise, and a fancy Human Resources title. Do you need a moral? If you are strange about your coworkers' purple hair you might just get past up for a promotion.

I told this story to my hair dresser today and she was stoked. She said she should print it on her business cards.

 

Here's my hair a few weeks after dying it. Well, the beard and eyebrows are added--in case you couldn't tell--but it's a pretty accurate image of the hair color. 

My hair is now back to brown in preparation for my wedding day fantasies. Maybe I'm not so bored anymore (although I did cut bangs to keep me interested), or maybe I don't feel the need to climb the corporate ladder this month.

So, go do it. Dye it up!