Keeping mum and WOW, that’s purple…

I feel as though it has been a loooooong time since I’ve posted anything. Possibly because it has been a long time; and an even longer time since I posted regular things.

It’s not that things are actually that boring; or even that they’re that busy. It’s more that most of the things that are going on around me that consume my attention and make me want to write posts right now fall into one of my self-imposed Forbidden Categories.

Such as…

…problems of friends and family, which are – and I hope you will forgive me for saying this – none of Da Internet’s business. (And frequently none of mine either. Not that this stops me from being a constant source of advice or from picking the situation apart from On High like I know something nobody else does about it, but, you know – that’s different.)

Or…

…me whining about Various Vicissitudes, about which little to nothing can be done in the near-term and which I will then proceed to be touchy about if – imagine the thought! – someone were to dare suggest potential courses of treatment. (I comfort myself with the thought that this proves I am still a girl. It’s NOT about the nail!!)

Then there’s also…

…too-specific things from work. Wherein Various Parties might recognize themselves and not think my words particularly kind, helpful or true. (And would undoubtedly be right, because I would be angry blogging while in grips of massive frustration and/or exhaustion.)

All it tied up with a My, But We DO Have A Case Of First World Problems™, don’t we?! ribbon.

…siiiiiiiigh…

Oh! But, there is this: So, Danger Mouse has been having some rough times in the getting decent grades department. And also, my little geek desperately wants to go to Comicon in March, right? (Yes, the one in Washington state. Not the one here in California. Because she wants to “fan girl” with her friends who live there. And I’d argue with her about it, but a) I wouldn’t win and b) says the woman who took a train all the way to Salt Lake City so she could fan-girl over a Harlot, for carp’s sake. He who liveth in a glass house…)

So I’ve been hearing about this Comicon thing for a fair while now. She doesn’t want anything for Christmas, her birthday, her next eighteen Christmas/birthdays, she just wants to go to Comicon.

With me. ONLY I will do. I must be the one to take her. Because I am the “cool” parent to bring to these sorts of things, since unlike that other parent, I know who Vic Mignogna is, and am more or less aware of at least some of the “good” currently-airing anime season, and can appreciate both the art in comics, and giggle like a fourteen year old at the fart jokes.

Plus, I tend to sort of fit in when we go to things like this. Only I’m, like, old and some junk? Which somehow apparently grants some kind of bonus status points for the kids I’m actually with, because apparently said kids are so cool that even old people will be brought into the light by it.

Or something.  

But I may be in a lot of trouble. Because while we were picking up the black hair rinse for Danger Mouse, we paused a moment at the more…flamboyant colors.

And somehow – I’m still not quite sure how exactly (although I believe it may have something to do with my completely unreasonable ban on hair dyes that are permanent/super-chemically/do-not-rinse-out-after-x-many-washes in nature) – I sort of made a contract with the devil pact with her. If she can show me the A-grades by the time Comicon 2014 rolls around in March…I will not only take her, but bump her ‘has coolest parent on the floor’ status by applying this to my hair.

Not hers.

Mine. My 40-achoo! year old head? Lusty. Lavender.

  

Yeahhhhhhhhhh.

Lusty Lavender.

{meditative pause}

That’s…going to be…I mean…I’m just envisioning…the first time I show up at the office after having applied this…

{another meditative pause}

…but shoot, in for a penny in for a pound…might be time to start shopping the steam punk and semi-goth stores on Etsy I sneak into from time to time like a married man surfing those sites, so I can pretend I might be the sort of woman who could and would pull that kind of ‘statement’ off…

(Note the “game face” on the kid. She’s not fooling around here. She wants my Boring Brown to be Lusty Lavender when we are Comicon-bound. Hoooooooooboy…)