“Somethin’ ’bout platinum, irrefutably…”

Pre-holiday haircut and color: “What doesn’t kill you only makes you blonder…”  

That free wine they provide is half the reason I keep coming back to this salon. (Post-apartment move, it’s annoyingly far.)

The other half, as I texted a friend:

Me: “My hair salon is next door to that bar with the cheesy pretzels, so I think a to-go order after my appointment is a must, no?”

Friend: “Otherwise you’re just wasting your life, honestly.”

I can’t waste my life, you guys.

#DrunkyCheesyDestiny

(Upon reflection, I wish I’d asked Friend to join me at the bar. We could’ve taken my faboo hair for a test run, and she’d be a great wingman. Plus, I reiterate, cheesy pretzels.)

Miss Manners was never really clear on this…

I’m invited to a wedding in a few months, and I was invited with a guest.

It’s probably bad etiquette to bring a girlfriend who’ll dress me in something slutty, be my wingman, and drive me home once I get wasted enough to get naked with a groomsman in a broom closet… right?

Fine, FINE. 

I’ll go to the wedding alone, get drunk, and go home with the groomsman. #drinkresponsibly